


The Other Robin

by ItstheBookworm



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Teen Wolf (TV), Young Justice (Cartoon), Young Justice - All Media Types
Genre: (s), Adoptions, Aftermath of Torture, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Angst, Anxiety, Arkham Asylum, Arkham security sucks, BAMF Stiles, Bart Allen draws, Bart Doesn't Know How To Read Cause He's From The Future And That Makes Sense, Bart needs to keep his mouth shut cause spoilers, Bart sucks at lying, Bart talks fast, Batfamily Feels, Bisexual Male Character, Blood, Blood and Gore, Blood and Torture, Branding, Canon Temporary Character Death, Cass is mentioned, Chimeras, Completely ignores cannon at times, Depression, Designations, Dick Grayson has a tattoo, Dick Grayson is Nightwing, Dick Grayson is a Teacher, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode: s03e06 Motel California, Español | Spanish, Everyone Needs A Hug, F/F, F/M, Family Fluff, Fatal Injuries, Feels, Fight Scenes, Forgotten Bart Allen, Forgotten Stiles Stilinski, Gen, Ginger Jason Todd, Graphic Description, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, I guess... kinda, I'm too lazy to tag everything, Implied Relationships, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Inside Out references, It is canon now, Jaime Reyes speaks Spanish, Jaime and Cassie are musical proteges, Jason Todd has tattoos, Jason Todd in place of Sheriff Stilinski, Jason Todd is Alive, Jason Todd is Red Hood, Jason Todd is a red head, Jason cooks, Jason has a potty mouth, Jason is Stiles favorite shhhh, Jason is a cop, Jason is still part of the bat family, Jason smokes, Khaji Da is an asshole, Kid Stiles Stilinski, La Iglesia, Long Lost/Secret Relatives, M/M, Medical Procedures, Medicine, Mentions of Suicide, Mexico, Minor Breakdowns, Near Death Experiences, New Kid Stiles Stilinski, Newspaper Headlines, Night Terrors, Nightmares, Nogitsune, Nogitsune Stiles Stilinski, Nogitsune Trauma, Occasional Jaime POV, Other, Ouch, Pack Feels, Panic Attacks, Paranoid Stiles Stilinski, Parties, Phone Calls & Telephones, Pictures, Pills, Police Officer Jason Todd, Post-Nogitsune Stiles Stilinski, Prescription medicine, Protective Jason, Psychological Torture, Puppy Isaac Lahey, Rain, Robin Feels, Scarab is a sarcastic little shit, Scars, Season/Series 01, Season/Series 02, Season/Series 03, Season/Series 03A, Season/Series 04, Season/Series 05, Season/Series 05 Spoilers, Season/Series 06, Season/Series 06 Spoilers, Sleepy Cuddles, Smart Lydia, Smart Stiles, Stephanie Brown is Robin, Stiles Feels, Stiles Has Nightmares, Stiles Has Panic Attacks, Stiles Stilinski Has Scars, Stiles Stilinski is Robin, Stiles Stilinski's Name is Mieczysław, Stiles-centric, Stilinski House, Stitches, Suicide, Suicide Attempt, Talking, Tattooed Jason Todd, Tattooed Stiles Stilinski, Tattoos, Teen Wolf Episodes, The Dread Doctors, The Robin's all have tattoos, The Scarab is protective over Bart, Tim Drake has a tattoo, Tim Drake is Robin, Tim Drake is depressed, Tim needs a hug, Tired Stiles Stilinski, Torture, Training, Triggers, Undercover, Undercover Missions, Universe Alterations, Void Stiles, Whips, as in many, but it's Jason's fault, gay kiss, in my opinion, it's cool looking, math sucks, season 3b, so does Stiles, sorry - Freeform, sterek, tim feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-07
Updated: 2018-03-27
Packaged: 2018-09-22 15:34:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 158,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9614399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ItstheBookworm/pseuds/ItstheBookworm
Summary: Before Damian there was another Robin. When he was eight years old he lost his mother and moved to Gotham, only to loose his father too. Learning that Bruce Wayne was his uncle was a bit of a shocker. Eight years later he returned to his home town, Beacon Hills, with superhero training under his belt and a few superhero friends. Stiles Stilinski is back and not to be messed with. COMPLETED!!!!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Me: This plot bunny kinda came randomly as I was looking through some youtube videos trying to find something else to write. However this isn't actually based on any of those videos. I’m not trying to take anyone else's ideas. So if you find something similar online I’m not purposefully copying their ideas.
> 
> Stiles: She’s obsessed with the animated Batman and the Batfam right now. Everything she can get free on either Xfinity on demand or on Netflix she’s been watching.
> 
> Me: Mhmm, and I’ve been watching a lot of Teen Wolf and Young Justice and walla, this plot bunny is born. ALSO THIS IS NOT A CONTINUATION OF MY THERE WAS TWO OF THEM STORY AS STILES IS NOT NIGHTBOLT OR BARRY’S YOUNGER BROTHER!! IT ALSO COMPLETELY IGNORES SOME CANON IN BOTH THE DCU AND TEEN WOLF
> 
> Disclaimer Here → I don’t own Batman, Teen Wolf, Young Justice, or anything else that might be referenced or implied.
> 
> 3rd Person POV

**** Stiles was just eight years old when they moved to Gotham City. Only a month ago his mom had finally succumbed to Frontotemporal Dementia and his dad quit his job to take one at the GPD. Just a month ago he had packed up his whole life, said goodbye to his best friend in the whole entire world, left his school, and moved across the world (well, country technically). A month ago he met Commissioner Gordon and his daughter Barbara, who became like family to him in just a few days. Just under a month ago he started going to Gotham Academy with a Wayne Scholarship (according to Barbara, Mr. Wayne granted the scholarship to all the police officers kids. Only a few accepted it). It was there he was introduced to Tim Drake-Wayne and his older brother Dick Grayson. The adopted children of the one who had given him the scholarship that brought him to this school.

It was only a week ago his life went downhill. During class they had gotten the announcement that the Joker escaped from Arkham. Pandemonium broke out, kids crying and screaming. The entire school was put on lockdown, just until the parents came to collect their children. It was a requirement to have an ID, their child’s confirmation, and a pat down for any weapons of any sort before they were allowed on campus to collect their child. Any children of police officers were rounded up and set in a different room, where a temporary guardian would watch them. If their parent was unable to take them home they would be sent to their closest living relative, a family friend, or (if there were none) they would be sent to a host family from the school. For Stiles, that meant a host family. That family, was the Wayne’s.

At first, Stiles thought there was a mistake. Why would he be sent to the Wayne family? It wasn’t until he got there that he realized exactly why that would be. There was a picture, a little bit hidden, on a bookshelf. No one was in the room so he took it down, brushed the very fine layer of dust off of it, and finally realized why exactly his dad took him to Gotham City. In the picture were his paternal grandparents (his grandmother had died a year before he was born and his grandfather was in a nursing home with frontotemporal dementia) standing next to his dad. They were all wearing formal wear. His mom was stood on the other side, arm linked with his dad, wearing her wedding dress. Besides his mom was Mr. Wayne, beaming at the camera with his hand on her shoulder. Brows furrowed he looked closer at the picture. Why would Mr. Wayne be at his mom’s wedding.

A throat cleared behind him and Stiles jumped, turning around. The butler, Alfred?, was stood there. Turning bright red Stiles tried to hide the picture behind him, refusing to look at Alfred. The older gentlemen, because there was nothing else he could be, moved closer and knelt in front of him. Stiles flicked his eyes up to the butler in what he hoped to be an innocent movement.

“Mr. Wayne doesn’t look at that picture much anymore,” the butler started, gently taking the picture away from Stiles, “He’s lost just about all of his family, I think looking at his sister hurts.”

“Sister?” Stiles immediately clamped his mouth shut, not having meant to say anything.

“Oh yes. Claudia Wayne, such a bright little girl. While Bruce moved away to train himself, Claudia was given to a foster family. They kept in touch of course, often spending the summers together.” Alfred was holding the picture tenderly, a gently smile on his face, “She met your father in school. I believe she changed her name to the ones of her foster family, the Gajos if my memory serves, and kept her distance from the Wayne family name. It didn’t make Bruce all that happy, but he didn’t challenge her. Instead of returning to the family home, she stayed in Beacon Hills with your father. Claudia liked the simple life, she was never one for material objects.”

“My mom was a Wayne?” Somehow Stiles just couldn’t see it.

“Oh yes. In fact, I have more pictures of her around if you would like?”

“Please?”

That was how Stiles spent the next few hours. Curled up in the study, away from the rest of the Wayne family and Barbara. Instead he listened to Alfred tell stories of his mom, Mr. Wayne, and his deceased maternal grandparents. The stories captivated him and the pictures were mesmerizing. Each one had a different tale behind it, ones that Alfred were all too happy to share. Eventually he found himself waking up hours later, the fire still burning brightly, and a blanket tucked around his shoulders. Voices were coming from the entrance hall, the door to the study open slightly. Curiosity took the better of him and, with the blanket over his shoulders like a cape, he crept to the partially open door. In the entrance hall was the shadowed figure of Bruce Wayne. Red and blue lights flashed outside, two police officers standing in the doorstep talking quietly with him.

“I’m sorry to wake you so late Mr. Wayne,” one of the police officers said.

“It’s no worry. I was already awake,” Mr. Wayne replied, “Now please. Would you tell me why you decided to grace my doorstep with your presence.”

“Mr. Wayne, I’m afraid we have some terrible news to tell you. It has to do with one of your temporary wards,” the other police officer said, “Mr. Stilinski was shot in the confrontation with the Joker. He died on the way to the hospital. I’m terribly sorry.”

Despite the warmth of the fire and the blanket around his shoulders, ice seemed to grow through his chest and spread throughout his body. Numbness filled his brain, making the next few words spoken between the officers and Mr. Wayne nothing but white noise. His chest seemed to contract and he stumbled backwards, deeper into the room. Labored breathing, wheezing more accurately, escaped his lips and he glanced around in a blind panic. His Dad. His Dad was gone.

“Stiles,” a voice broke through the panic, “Mieczyslaw.”

Somehow that one word, the proper pronunciation of his real name, broke through the blind haze. A sob escaped him and he flung himself into the chest of Mr. Wayne. For a second the man tensed, before relaxing and running a hand through his unruly brown hair and wrapping his other arm around Stiles’ torso. If anything this just made Stiles cry harder. Everything around him was crumbling too little pieces. Only a month ago his mom had died, now his dad was dead. Why did everyone leave him?

**_************BATWOLF***********_ **

Due to some bribing in high up places and his Uncle’s status as a billionaire and the White Knight of Gotham City, the adoption process for Stiles happened in a little under a month. During that month Stiles had figured out (it wasn’t that difficult) that his Uncle was Batman and his new brother, in the form of Tim Drake, was Robin. Barbara Gordon was batgirl too, which was a weird thought. Taking it in stride, after some minor fangirling, Stiles was now a constant in the batcave. His nickname had become Baby Wing. Stiles realized not long after was a mix of the nicknames Dick had given his two little brothers. Jason Todd (deceased and buried next to his grandparents) had been Little Wing and Tim’s as Baby Bird. However whenever they had to reference him in any situation when they were keeping their identities a secret he was called Batkid (which offended him a little). Only the bat-family knew why that was, as he was the only one (and soon to be Robin) related to Batman.

“Hey Baby Wing,” Dick draped himself over the couch that Stiles was sitting on, “You escape from training?”

“If I was escaping,” Stiles replied, tongue sticking out as he worked on the math homework on his lap, “I would be hiding.”

“He let you go early?”

“No. He’s with the team that Robin and Batgirl is on.” He threw his pencil across the room a few minutes earlier, “I don’t understand! How does this work?!”

Just like that Dick launched himself over the back of the couch, plopping down on the cushion next to Stiles. The older male, who technically lived in Bludhaven but always seemed to be in Gotham, looked over his shoulder with a furrowed brow. Stiles glanced up to his new brother. It seemed that he was mentally trying to figure out the problem before he would help him solve it. 

“Do you know how many times three goes into eighteen?” Dick asked. 

Stiles mentally did the math, “Six.”

“Then put six over the eighteen, multiply the six by the three, then subtract the quotient. Keep doing that until you get the answer.”

Following these instructions, Stiles struggled his way through the rest of his problems. Besides him Dick hummed some sort of catchy tune, flipping through a random book. The pages of the book seemed well worn and the binding had obviously been broken in. Looking more carefully at the book he noted it was a book of poems. It didn’t look like it would be something Dick would be interested in, maybe Tim but it was too worn to be Tim’s. Besides, from what he could see of the first page that was slightly risen, the initials on it were those of the dead Wayne brother; Jason Todd.

“When’s Uncle Bruce and Tim getting home?” Stiles asked, doodling a stick figure Batman on the side of his homework paper.

“Soon.”

**_**************BATWOLF***********_ **

It was around a month later that Stiles graduated from Batkid to Robin. Tim had become Red Robin, gladly handing over the Robin title to Stiles. The explanation he had been given was that it was Stiles’ to begin with, that he had a stronger claim to it then Tim did. Accepting it without argument, Stiles began his term as Robin. Just like most of the other Robin’s he was only eight years old. 

That was when Jason Todd came back. 

His first major mission was actually the one after the one that Red Hood was revealed as the second Robin. Due to it being one of his first missions, the other two Robin’s were with him. Well, Nightwing was staying closer whereas Red Robin seemed to be all over the place. Batman was, of course, nearby. Standing right behind him actually. 

“Long time no see old man,” an almost lazy voice said behind him, “I’m assuming the Joker is still alive? Who’s the new Robin? Already replaced the Replacement I see.”

“Jason,” Batman said evenly, Stiles turning to see the only Robin he had never met, the one that had died before he had even come to Gotham, “I’m assuming you came here for a reason.”

Stiles glanced behind him, sensing Nightwing move closer. The way the older man was standing seemed almost protective. Instead of getting annoyed, which he felt he probably should be, Stiles felt safer. The Red Hood on Jason’s head scared him a little. One of the first things he learned as Batkid was everything about the Joker. As well as not to ever (EVER) go off alone if there is even a possibility that the Joker is around. Batman did not want another incident like what happened with Jason.

“Just wanted to see the new Robin,” Jason replied, pushing off of the wall.

There was a woosh in the air, Red Robin dropping down behind him. It was clear to Stiles that none of the others trusted Jason. His little eight year old mind just didn’t understand what it was. Wasn’t this their brother? The one that had died? Shouldn’t they be happy that he was back? Why didn’t they trust him? He was a Robin. Wasn’t he?

“Well you’ve seen him,” Tim growled.

“Heard a rumour that Ivy and Harley are planning an escape. I suggest you stay prepared. Keep this Robin safe. Don’t want another death now do you?” Jason slipped off his helmet, the compressed air releasing.

The first thing Stiles noticed was the white strip of hair in the mix of the black. Biting his lip to keep the question in, something that Dick had been trying to teach him, Stiles glanced over at Dick. From the little bit he could see, the first Robin was trying to hold back tears. It looked like he was close to failing. Nightwing turned away and Red Robin moved closer to the older male.

“You could help us you know,” Stiles spoke up, ignoring the glare Batman sent him, “Despite what you think you’re still part of this family. Somewhere in there is still a bit of Robin in you!”

“I think Batsy here would disagree kid,” Jason replied as he tucked the helmet under his arm.

“You’re still my son Jason,” Batman interjected, “I don’t approve of your methods but you are always welcome home.”

“Even after I tried to kill Replacement over there? Forgive me if I don’t believe you old man.”

This was news to Stiles. It would explain why Red Robin was in the hospital for so long, looking like he was death warmed over. No one told him what had happened. Instead they just said that a mission had gone wrong. Eyes flicking between Red Robin, who was glowering at Jason, and Jason himself. Jason was keeping his emotions under check, Stiles unable to read him, especially with the red domino mask covering his eyes.

“You weren’t in control, it was the Pit,” Red Robin finally said, after a few seconds of awkward silence, “I trust you.”

“Oh trust me kid. It was still me,” Jason crossed his arms over his chest, “And if you trust me so much why are you guarding the kid?”

Silence overtook the group. He had a point. Nightwing was besides him, slightly in front in a defensive motion. Red Robin was on the other side, not in front of him, but able to move in front in a moments notice. His hands were poised next to his weapon as well. Then lastly there was Batman, looming behind him. It was probably the most strategic place for him to be as well. Able to throw a batarang in a second or cover his sons with his kevlar cape. 

“You attacked me because I was Robin,” Red Robin eventually said, “And we weren’t sure if you would do the same. Or even if you were actually here on pleasant terms.”

“I attacked you ‘cause you’re my replacement. This kid has done nothing to upset me, yet,” Jason didn’t even touch the last comment.

“Look, Jaybird, whether or not we are guarding the kid doesn’t matter,” Nightwing cut in, “What matters is that we do want you back. We miss you Little Wing.”

Everyone tensed around Stiles as Jason reached into his pocket. Glancing at the ones around him he noticed that they all twitched towards their weapons. Jason pretended he didn’t notice, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. No one seemed to agree with that, but no one said anything. Stiles wasn’t exactly sure why that was. If they didn’t agree with him smoking why didn’t they tell him? The second Robin lit the cigarette between his lips before taking a deep inhale and blowing it out, the smoke clouding his face for a second before dissipating into the polluted Gotham air.

“You not just gonna lock me up are ya Dickie?” Jason demanded, brows drawing together in an angry way.

“I won’t let them,” Stiles spoke up, giving a meaningful look to his uncle who looked ready to chastise him, “If you really come back and don’t hurt anyone in our family, then I won’t let them lock you up.”

“You think you can stand up to them kid?”

“No, but they won’t risk losing me too.” 

A second after he said that he felt unsure. What if they would risk losing him just to lock Jason up? He hadn’t been around very long, not as long as the other two had been. While he might be blood related Bruce doesn’t know him that well. Biting his lip unsure, Stiles glanced over at Nightwing. One of his hands had rested on his shoulder, squeezing it gently.

“We won’t lock you up,” Nightwing finally said, “Come home Little Wing.”

“Please,” Stiles added, looking up at him.

“Alright,” Jason conceded, dropping his hands.

And so, the four Robins and their Bat mentor returned to the cave. A little more whole.

**_*********BATWOLF********_ **

It took nearly a week for Jason to fully integrate back into their lives. To Stiles it was almost like he had always been there. Somehow they managed to feed the story to the reporters that Jason had survived the explosion and the body they had found was in reality a John Doe. Due to the mangled body they had mistaken it for Jason. They were currently looking for the identity of the John Doe in missings person reports and were hoping to find who it was soon. In this way it explained Jason’s long disappearance and who they had buried in the casket.

A celebration was held and due to the nature of the celebration there were Justice League members and their proteges, if they had any, at the party. It was here that Stiles met some of the past teammates of Dick and the current teammates of Tim (as Stiles would not be joining the team until he was thirteen). Only Clark and Diana seemed to know the identity of Batman, everyone else was in the dark. Thankfully though, Cassie and Connor (the proteges of Superman and Wonder Woman) didn’t know who they were.

“I wonder if Batman and Red Robin are here. Maybe even the new Robin, wonder when we’ll meet him,” he overheard Artemis say too Wally as they walked by, “I think Nightwing is in Bludhaven right now. He didn’t respond to any of my texts.” 

However, Stiles knew that Wally knew of their identities. It was one of the few things that Bruce had admonished Dick for during his time as Robin. Sliding over to them, slipping between people, Stiles grinned widely at them. Both looked startled, Artemis stepping back slightly. They both cleaned up nice, he noted. Artemis had on a one shoulder green (the same color green as her costume) dress. There was a slit in her dress, making it easy to fight in. Wally was wearing a tuxedo with a gold vest and bowtie, his hair actually combed for once. 

“Did you say Batman is here? That’s so cool!” Stiles exclaimed, catching the attention of his uncle and brothers, it wasn’t that difficult to sound excited too. Even before he knew about his uncle being Batman, he was always his favorite hero.

“Umm,” Wally stuttered, looking over at Artemis for help.

“Don’t these events usually get crashed, by bad guys?” Artemis eventually took over, “Shouldn’t that mean that Batman is actually here just waiting to save the day.”

“That’d be awesome! Not the whole party getting crashed though. Uncle Bruce worked really hard on this, well… Alfred did but Uncle Bruce sure helped a lot!”

“Mr. Wayne is your uncle?” Wally sounded surprised and Stiles suppressed a smirk.

“Mhmm.” 

It was at that moment that Dick came up behind him, resting a hand on his shoulder. His adopted brother was wearing a dark tuxedo with the same blue color as his nightwing costume for his tie and a silvery blue vest. Alfred had practically thrown it at him that morning, demanding that he wear that instead of his normal tux. No one went against Alfred, so that was the suit that Dick was wearing. Then his hair was slightly neater than normal, a few strands in front of his face.

“Who are your friends Stiles?” Dick asked.

Wally nearly choked on his drink and Stiles felt slightly offended. Yeah, okay. His name might be abnormal. But at least his name wasn’t Dick. That was just a disaster waiting to happen. Especially when it came too older kids. No offense or anything.

“Stiles? Your name is Stiles?” Wally demanded.

“So? You got a problem with that?” Stiles didn’t care if this was Kid Flash, he would leave him a bruised pulp.

“No, no problem. Just slightly shocked. I’m Wally West, this is my girlfriend Artemis Crock.”

“Dick Grayson, this is my new brother Stiles Stilinski. Bruce adopted him recently,” Dick gave a small smile, “Though I’m sure you already knew that.”

Now that he was the center of attention all Stiles wanted to do was escape. It was honestly easier than he thought it was, slipping out of Dick’s grip and disappearing into the crowd of people. The people were all so fake here, especially the undercover superheroes. Off to the side he could see Megan in her human form with a black dress that had red sheer sleeves and a red collar. She was standing with Connor who had a tux matching her dress. Then there was the leader of the group, Kaldur’ahm, wearing a blue tux with a silver tie, who was talking animatedly with the civilian version of Green Arrow. Deciding to avoid anyone else who was part of Young Justice, that was just going to be a disaster waiting to happen, Stiles scanned to find someone else. Off to the side, looking very uncomfortable despite (or probably because) the party being for him. No one seemed to notice him there, except for Stiles. Squeezing past a couple, Stiles moved to stand behind him.

In his black tux, with a blood red tie, Jason glanced over to face him. One of his eyebrows was risen and Stiles noted the white streak was parted to the right. Obviously done at the request of Alfred, otherwise Jason wouldn’t have bothered to do anything with his hair. Much less wear a tux in the first place. If Bruce had suggested it there would have been a fight and Jason wouldn’t be as dressed as nicely as he currently was. Sure he would wear the tux, as that was what Alfred had demanded, but it wouldn’t be as clean and precise.

“What do you want kid?” Jason grouched.

“Do I need a reason to stand here?” Stiles replied, leaning against the wall.

“It’d be nice.”

“Wanted to get away. Dick is talking to his friends, the ones that are part of the ‘covert’ team and don’t know who he is. Tim is who knows where. Uncle Bruce is talking with the grown ups,” he spat out grown ups like it was an insult, “You’re the only one that isn’t busy.”   
“So I was your last choice?”

“You wanted a reason. This one just made the most sense. You wouldn’t have accepted any other explanation.”

“You’re right I probably wouldn’t have.”

Instead of responding in a sarcastic way, which he probably would have done if it were anyone else, Stiles just looked down. It seemed everything he said Jason twisted the words around or he took it wrong. There never seemed to be anything he could say that Jason wouldn’t make sound like he was subtly insulting him. If he was insulting Jason, Jason would know! It would be obvious. Not a subtle insult, that was just degrading to Jason.

“Are you going to stay there?” Jason demanded.

“You’re the only one that isn’t boring,” Stiles practically whined, “Everyone here is a stuffy adult or some stuck up teenager. This tux is stuffy and I can’t drink any of the drinks here and all the food is groooooooss.”

“Sometimes I forget you are only eight. You act older.”

Stiles gave him a little pout and Jason sighed. A second later his older brother (and current favorite but don’t tell Dick that) lightly pushed on his shoulder before walking across the room to Uncle Bruce. Stifling a yawn Stiles rubbed at one of his eyes. It was eleven at night and his usual bedtime was around seven or eight, when he wasn’t Robin. But right now the adrenaline of Robin wasn’t helping keep him awake. Eyelids fluttering he barely noticed when Jason came back, putting his hand on Stiles’ shoulder. 

“Come on kid, let’s get you to bed,” Jason suggested, guiding him out of the ballroom.

“But,” Stiles tried to stifle a yawn however it didn’t work.

“You’re exhausted. Trust me I know. The nights I wasn’t Robin, I would crash at nine. That was the latest.” They headed up the stairs, heading towards the bedrooms. “And you are going to end up crashing. Wanna do that in your room or in front of everyone kid?”   
“Room,” Stiles yawned once more, rubbing his eyes again, “Don’ wanna… embarrass.”

Stumbling on the stairs, Stiles found himself getting swept up into Jason’s arms. He mumbled something to his brother, leaning his head on the older male’s shoulder. It was too late and he was exhausted. Tomorrow he would just pretend nothing happened. No one could get it out of him on pain of death. Nope. Drifting off, even before he got to his room, Stiles closed his eyes and fell asleep in the arms of his rebellious older brother.

**_********BATWOLF*******_ **

That was only the start. While Jason could barely seem to tolerate Tim and Bruce (Dick somehow forced himself to be close to Jason and they seemed to have a weird relationship going on there), Stiles quickly became his favorite. Training with Jason was amazing and he never held back like the others always seemed to do. Bruce crossed the line at Jason training Stiles with guns, but everything else was fair game. While Jason couldn’t teach him the acrobatic tricks that Dick did, or hacking as well as Barbara, he could teach Stiles all the underhanded dirty tricks in the book. For example, if a guy was trying to kidnap him or something along the lines, the nuts were always a fair shot. Something that Stiles had actually used on some creep that tried to do who knows what to him on his way home from school.

“Spread your feet,” Jason told him, around a year or so later, wearing only a pair of black sweatpants.

“Like this?” Stiles on the other hand was wearing a black t-shirt with a red Superman symbol on it (Tim had given it to him a while back) and some jogging pants.

Both bat brothers were barefoot. They were practicing with whips right now, which was a bit more difficult than most other weapons. Especially if you were using them too entangle your opponent instead of a torture weapon. Stiles wasn’t picking up on it as easily as he would like. Most of the bats didn’t even really use whips anyways, it just didn’t make sense in Stiles’ eyes to know how to use it. However Jason insisted on Stiles knowing to use a little bit of everything, so Stiles was dealing with it. This was better than being alone at least. Tim was with the protege team, Dick was out in Bludhaven, and Bruce was at a meeting with the League. 

“Now, bring your arm back, over your head, then throw it forward. Make sure to use your wrist, that’s what guides the whip. Your arm is just for power,” Jason told him, holding onto Stiles’ arms and bringing it back before pushing it forward, “Try it. Wrap the whip around the dummies arm.”

Jason stepped off to the side, arms crossed over his chest. There were multiple scars on his body, the most obvious one being the ‘Y’ autopsy scar on his torso. Occasionally Stiles’ eyes would glance over to it. The autopsy scar was covered with what looked to be some sort of tribal tattoo, with runes on it. Stiles noticed that Jason really only was shirtless in training with him, maybe because he didn’t want the others to question him about the scars or the tattoos. Jason had a few tattoos on his body, Stiles was sure he hadn’t seen them all. There was Jason’s take on the bat symbol in red on his lower back, a robin with its wings spread for flight hidden under his right arm on his ribcage, and a skull between his shoulder blades with what looked to be batwings spread behind it. Not to mention the tribal looking tattoo over his autopsy scar. Stiles never asked about any of them, doesn’t plan to either.

“Kid,” Jason’s voice broke him out of his thoughts, “Does Bruce not give you your adderall or something? Try it.”   
“Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. Do it.”

Lifting the whip above his head, Stiles brought it down hard and snapped his wrist. The edge of the whip curled, hooking under the dummies arm and wrapping around it. Continuing on instinct Stiles yanked the whip back towards him, successfully tightening the whip and knocking the dummy off balance. A loud crash echoed in the training room, despite the dummy hitting the padded training room floor. Wincing Stiles glanced back over at Jason biting his lip.

“Good job kid. Think you can do it on a moving target?” Jason asked.

“What?”

“It’ll be like using the batarangs. Figuring out where your target is before you actually attack. Except with a whip.”

“Who am I gonna practice on?”

In response Jason raised an eyebrow and spread his arms as though asking who else was there to practice with. Immediately Stiles didn’t like this idea. What if he hurt Jason? No one else was here. Only them. Even Alfred was gone, out shopping for them. This was a horrible idea. Stiles also didn’t want to have to call someone in case something happened. Shifting uncomfortably Stiles worried on his bottom lip.

“It’ll be fine kid. I’ve had worse,” Jason got in a fighting position across from him, “Try avoiding my face though. Gotta keep my good looks after all.”

That succeeding in relaxing Stiles a bit. It took Jason making the first move though, kicking out at him. Stiles leapt backwards and flicked the whip restlessly next to him. He really didn’t want to use it against Jason. Despite what the older Robin thought he didn’t hate him. Circling around Stiles was content to dodge every swipe at him from Jason.

“Come on kid. We’re practicing the whip remember? Not you dodging,” Jason reminded him.

Stiles raised the whip above his head and studied Jason. Despite looking like he was going to the right, he could see the subtle tension in his muscles and the slight lean to the left. Bringing down the whip in Jason’s direction he snapped his wrist to the right. Just in time too, Jason leapt to the right as well. The whip encircled his ankle, instead of his arm like Stiles’ intended, and Stiles yanked the whip down. Gravity worked in his favor and Jason fell on his back hard. When Jason didn’t move for a good five or so minutes Stiles started worrying. Horrified that he might have hurt his brother Stiles rushed to his side, dropping the whip.

“Jay?” Stiles asked, tears already starting to gather in his eyes as he knelt beside his brother.

“Give me a sec,” Jason groaned, “Need to get my breath back. Last time it all came out like that was… god I don’t really remember. Probably with Ra’s.”

Stiles didn’t respond, hands shaking slightly. One of Jason’s eyes opened, teal green eyes squinting at him. A soft groan escaped his older brother as he yanked Stiles down besides him. The younger boy came down willingly, not fighting against his older brother. He was still a little shaky from the fear that he might have seriously hurt his brother. Burying his face in his brother’s side Stiles tried to hide away from the world. However both were sweaty and smelly. Soon they would have to go hit the showers.

“Alright, get up. I say that’s enough training today,” Jason lightly pushed on Stiles’ arm.

Whining softly, sue him he was turning ten tomorrow, Stiles sat up. Scrambling to his feet in order to pick up all the stuff on the ground before Jason could order him to do it, Stiles glanced back over to his brother. He still hadn’t moved yet, other than putting both arms on the other side of him. How badly had he hurt Jason with that move? A dislocated ankle (could you even dislocate your ankle?) or possibly a sprain. Maybe a few bruises on his ribs.

“Ow, fuck,” Jason cursed, bringing Stiles back to reality.

His brother was holding his side, sat up now. Dumping the whip in its spot inside a locker, Stiles rushed back to his brothers side. There wasn’t any bruising on his scarred body, as far as Stiles could tell. He also didn’t want to prod him, for fear of hurting him even more. Jason waved his concern away and got to his feet, biting his tongue to keep another cuss in. Hovering uncertainly nearby, was he supposed to call someone in this situation?, Stiles tried not to be too annoying.

“I’m fine. Go hit the showers,” Jason told him, using his weird older brother sense to know what Stiles was thinking, “Go.”

Frowning Stiles rushed off to the showers. If Jason still looked to be hurt later he would tell Alfred or whoever else was home. They would take care of it. After stripping out of his clothes Stiles went into the shower, the warm water cascading down his back. It was around now that he realized he had worked himself up again and his hands were shaking. His pills were in the medicine cabinet upstairs, locked by Alfred. While he was certain he could pick the lock, his hands were shaking too much right now. Taking steadying breaths Stiles clenched his fists and let the water rush over his body. There was no need to be worked up. Jason wasn’t in any danger, the injuries were minor. If he was still in pain Alfred or Bruce or someone would take care of it.

Turning off the water Stiles stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around himself. Water dripped down his nose and he rubbed his face against the towel. Shivering softly he got dressed and towel dried his hair, leaving it mostly damp. Tossing the towel into the hamper he padded down the hall, hearing another shower going in Jason’s room as he passed by. That was a good sign at least. There were noises in the kitchen and he peeked into it from the staircase, seeing Alfred unpacking the food. Sliding down the banister, Stiles rushed into the kitchen.

“I see you didn’t take your pills this morning,” Alfred greeted, giving Stiles a stern look.

The nine year old flushed and picked at the hem of his Green Lantern t-shirt (Dick gifted to him as a joke, but Stiles wore it a lot as it made Bruce jealous) avoiding Alfred’s eyes.

“They taste gross,” Stiles complained.

“That’s why you take it with juice Master Mieczyslaw.” Stiles made a face at the name. Alfred insisted on calling them all by their full names or in Stiles’ case his real name.

“Yeah but then I can’t drink my favorite juice cause it tastes like my pills.”

“What a conundrum.”

“That’s not why I came in here though.” Without a word Alfred handed Stiles a couple of boxes of cereal before pointing to the pantry. Stiles began to help put the food away while still talking. “Can you check on Jason later? There was an accident in training and he got hurt. I think he’s pretending to be okay for me but he just kinda laid on the ground for a long time and seemed really hurt when he finally got up. He even cussed! He doesn’t cuss around me cause Dick told him he’s not allowed too.”

“I shall check up on Master Jason when I see him. Thank you for telling me. Now run along, Master Timothy should be home soon.”

“Thanks Al!” Stiles fled the kitchen a few minutes later, rushing past Jason who was on his way to the lounge.

The older boy turned to look at him as he ran past, but Stiles was not going to be there when Alfred checked up on him. Nope, not gonna happen. Firstly cause Jason was gonna be upset when he found out Stiles told Alfred that he was hurt. Secondly because Jason was not a good patient. He complained a lot. Worse then Stiles did when he had to take his Adderall. Though he usually complained at Bruce. Dick always forgot to remind him (which was why he ended up skipping this morning, Dick had been put in charge of reminding him), Tim was never around in the mornings, and Jason could care less if he took them or not (though if Alfred told him to make Stiles take it he would, even if it meant stuffing the pills in his mouth and blocking his nose to make him swallow). It was really only Alfred that could make him take it in the mornings without complaints. No one went against Alfred.

“Tim!” Stiles jumped on the boy that was currently sitting in the study with a book on his lap.

“Whoa, Stiles.” Somehow Tim managed to move the book out of the way before Stiles landed on his lap. “Did Dick not remember to give you your pills.”

“They taste gross. It doesn’t matter. I’m bored and Jason is getting checked over by Alfred. Dick is somewhere and Uncle Bruce isn’t here.”

“I’m doing homework. Which I know you have to do.” Tim replied, flicking Stiles’ nose.

Stiles scrunched up his nose and gave a small pout. School was boring. They didn’t teach you anything interesting. Who cares about cells?! Stiles wants to learn about fun things. Stuff like why your lips are red and why babies are so squishy. That’s fun. Math is torture. Science has some cool things but why do they need to learn about cells? Those aren’t fun. 

“No I don’t,” Stiles replied.   
“Really? So you don’t need to make a model of plant and animal cells?” Tim asked.

“No…”

“I think you’re lying.” Tim poked his side and Stiles squealed and rolled off the older boys lap.

“Am not!”

“So if I was too ask Alfred…?”

“No!”

Stiles pouted on the ground and crossed his arms. Tim was mean. There was no need to threaten him with Alfred. He would do his homework… eventually… maybe… probably never. An idea grew in Stiles’ mind and he gave an innocent look to Tim. Immediately the older boy grew wary.

“Will you help me? I was thinking a cake. Making a small cake for them both and using candy and stuff for all the weird thingies inside,” Stiles begged.

“Stiles…”   
“Pleeeeaaaaaaassssssseeeeeeee.”

“Fine,” Tim set his book to the side, “But only because it’s your birthday tomorrow.”

“Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!”

“Did you ask Alfred to bake a cake?” 

“Uh…”

**_**********BATWOLF********_ **

Stiles was eleven when he first learned what true fear was. Not the fear of getting caught doing something you weren’t supposed too, not the fear of disappointing one of his brothers or his Uncle, not the fear of accidentally breaking something. No. This fear was true fear. The fear that made you wonder if you were going to survive, the fear that often caused the bed-wetting nightmares that woke the others in the house with your horrified screams, the fear that changed you. Before Stiles never was truly afraid, Batman or his brothers were with him. Sometimes even Batgirl was with him. He was safe with them and he knew it. This time was different. He was alone. He was scared.

During the patrol he got separated from Batman. Hood, Red Robin, and Nightwing were all busy. Nightwing patrolling his own city, Hood with a being a Crime Lord, and Red Robin was on a mission with Aqualad, Impulse, and Blue Beetle. It was just him and Batman patrolling tonight. He couldn’t remember what happened to separate them. It was fuzzy. He remembered heat, on his face. Smoke, burning his lungs. And hands grabbing him. Nothing after that. Stiles was sure he had passed out. Who knows how long later he woke up, hands chained to a pole. Every weapon on him had been taken, thoroughly searched. The mask was securely on his face still. Mouth was gagged. Whoever did this wasn’t new to it. Silently he categorized what was around him. There were boxes, too far away for him to reach. Light was filtering in from somewhere, windows maybe?, casting him in the beams from the moon. A few support beams were around him, including the one that had the pole he was attached too.

“Hehehehehe,” an insane laugh echoed throughout the warehouse, he was in a warehouse, “Looks like the bird finally woke up. Wonder if you’ll be as much  _ fun _ as the other birdies.”

A chill ran down his spine. It was the Joker. The Joker had taken him. This never ended well, he knew. Look at what happened to Jason. However it was clear that Harley wasn’t here, she was never far from the Joker when she was out of Arkham. That was if the Joker wasn’t in Arkham as well. Closing his eyes tightly Stiles braced himself. Batman would be here soon.

“Now, now. Don’t be scared. Uncle J is here. We’ll have lots of  _ fun _ before Batsy comes and ruins it. Now. I’m sure you’ve noticed my mark on the Husky Robin.” Stiles had, a carved J scar under Jason’s right eye. It was hardly noticeable, really only to those paying attention. The scar was only slightly off color and was only really red and angry looking after a shower. “Where should I put it on you? Cheek?” the knife pressed against his cheek, drawing blood. “Chest?” It forcefully tore open his Robin suit, pressing over his heart and cut into it. “Oh I know!” The knife cut downwards, leaving a trail of blood as it opened his skin. It stopped on his left thigh, pressing even deeper. “Right here.”

Joker dug the knife into the soft skin of his thigh, drawing a muffled scream. The insane man stopped, cocking his head to the side, before tutting softly. Yanking the knife out of his thigh, another muffled scream escaping, he cut upwards. The knife sliced through his cheek and forehead, but also through the fabric of the cloth gagging him. It fell to the ground, blood dribbling out of the cut on his cheek.

“That’s better.” Joker jabbed the knife back into his thigh and pulled. 

Tortured screams escaped Stiles. It seemed to take forever, but soon there was the marking of a J on his thigh. Blood flowed freely from the wound and Stiles sobbed softly. The others hadn’t taught him to withstand torture, nor did he think they planned to. With the Joker though, he didn’t want information. He just did it for fun. Stiles desperately clung to the hope that Batman would be there soon to save him. Someone had to have heard his screams. Stiles forgot that the Joker was still there until something was forced into his wound. Salt. A scream, louder than before, pulled through his throat. His vocal chords tore and the scream cut off into a sob.

“There we go. Now to leave you here for Batsy to find. Oh and kid. Tell him that the Joker is back and waiting!” The laugh followed him out. 

It felt like hours later when Batman finally came crashing through the door. With him was Nightwing and Red Hood. Tears were still streaming down Stiles’ face and when he saw them he full on broke down. Nightwing and Red Hood went through the boxes, finding Stiles weapons and utility belt. It was Batman that came to Stiles side, gently cupping his bloody cheek and releasing him from the bonds keeping him there. Stiles fully collapsed against his uncle, clutching the fabric of his suit and refusing to let go. Surprisingly enough (or not surprisingly to those that truly knew Batman) all his uncle did was lift him into his arms, letting Stiles cling. Both needed it.

It took Stiles months before he fully recovered and even longer to get used to the J scarred into his thigh. 

**_***********BATWOLF*********_ **

Meeting Superman (or Clark Kent) was one of the most exciting thing that had happened in his twelve year life. Not the most shocking though, most shocking definitely was finding out his Uncle was Batman. Everything else seemed to be nothing compared to that. However, meeting Superman would take most exciting. Even if Superman had been a douche to Connor (Stiles met him cause he was a really really good friend of Tim’s, they wore each other’s shirts a lot) at first. And Connor was Stiles’ friend too. But Stiles hadn’t met Superman when he was being a douche. 

“Clark,” Uncle Bruce said, Stiles hiding slightly behind him (he was a little shy too new people and he doesn’t really see Clark/Superman a lot) while clutching the kevlar cape tightly in one hand, “I don’t believe you’ve met Stiles properly.”

“Despite you having him for four years now?” Clark sounded almost offended, which drew a small smile from Stiles, “Even Connor has met the kid.”

“Connor also comes around more than you do.”

He wasn’t wrong. Be it with Connor as Superboy or just as Connor he spends more time around Tim and by default Stiles and Uncle Bruce than Clark does. Stiles had never met Clark before, either in his Superman persona or as Clark Kent. Every single time Clark had come around Stiles was either at school or he had been on patrol with Jason or Tim (sometimes Dick but he was usually in Bludhaven). This was his first time meeting Superman. And the cool thing was, he was on patrol with his Uncle. Which meant that Clark was in his Superman attire, the cape and all.

“It’s nice to meet you Robin,” Superman, since he technically was Superman at the moment, “Your mentor sure likes to keep you to himself.”

Smiling a little, Stiles peeked out around the cape some more. Superman was pretty cool, but Batman was still better. However, Wonder Woman beat them both in awesomeness. Stiles knew Jason would agree with him. Dick would argue full heartedly argue that Superman was better and Tim was biased towards Green Lantern. But both Jason and Stiles knew the best hero was totally Wonder Woman. 

“Why are you here Clark? It’s not just because you wanted to meet Robin. If that was the case you would have come much sooner,” Batman spoke up, a frown clear on his face.

“I don’t think the kid-” Stiles bristled, he was not a kid. This just further cemented Wonder Woman being cooler in his mind. “-should hear this one.”

“I’m not a kid!” Stiles argued, but his uncle stood straighter and grew grim.

“Robin, go find one of the others. I need to talk to Superman,” Batman ordered.

“But-”

“Go.”

Frowning heavily, Stiles turned to a different rooftop and jumped onto it. Maybe Tim would know what was going on. He certainly seemed to know everything. The better question was where Tim was. Tracing back in his head to when they were sending out orders he remembered that Tim was sent to the edges of Jason’s territory, patrolling nearby there. At worst he could go encroach on Jason’s territory (he was one of the few that wouldn’t immediately be shot at, even if it was just rubber bullets) and bug Jason instead. 

“Red!” Stiles landed in a roll in front of Tim and Connor, “Superboy!”

They broke apart. The two had been doing the thing (kissing? Jason called it shoving their tongues down the other’s throat whereas Dick called it making out) that he often saw people do on TV’s. Whatever it was, it was gross. And Stiles was disgusted and surprised to see them doing it in costume! Batman would have a fit if he saw that.

“Hey Robin. Aren’t you supposed to be with Batman?” Tim asked, a slight flush on his face even as he wiped his mouth.   
“Superman showed up and I got sent to you. Or Hood, but I found you first,” Stiles rocked on his feet, “Can you figure out what’s going on?”

“Luthor has something in Gotham,” Connor replied instead, arms crossed in front of his chest in a defensive maneuver, “That’s all I know. Nothing more. Whatever it is they don’t want us getting involved.”

“But-”

For the second time Stiles got cut off, “One thing I’ve learned while being a Bat, is that if Batman doesn’t want us involved there’s usually a pretty good reason. Even if it is that he’s just being overprotective.”

Stiles scoffed and kicked a loose piece of gravel angrily. There was no need to be overprotective, everyone had helped in his training. Dick had, Tim had, heck even Jason had. Though Jason had probably been the most thorough in the whole training thing (after all who trains a nine year old to use a whip effectively?). He could protect himself. Batman was just being unreasonable.

“Hey, trust him okay? If he deems it safe you’ll be right there by his side,” Tim continued, putting a hand on Stiles’ shoulder.

“He lets me help him with the Joker!” the memory of what happened last year flashed through his mind and he couldn’t help but flinch a little. “How can any of Superman’s villains be worse?”

“Lex Luthor is not just a psychopath. He is manipulative and cunning. Uses everything against you. If he can’t hurt you physically he ruins you, mentally and emotionally. He’ll take everything from you without a thought,” a dark voice said behind them, Stiles’ wincing when he recognized it as his Uncle’s.

“Batman,” Connor mumbled, “I’ll just…”

The clone leapt off the building and disappeared. Silently Stiles cursed him for leaving them alone. Instead of looking at his Uncle’s face, Stiles focused instead on his boot clad feet. There would only be frustration or disappointment there, maybe even a bit of anger. Stiles didn’t want to see it. 

“Robin.” Wincing Stiles raised his head slowly, meeting his Uncle’s gaze. “I don’t want you anywhere near this. Do you hear me?”   
Stiles swallowed deeply and nodded. 

For the next few days afterwards Stiles tried to learn everything he could about Lex Luthor. His past, his present, everything that seemed important and the things that didn’t seem as important as others. No stone was left unturned and not one thing overlooked. Soon he stumbled across just exactly why Lex Luthor was in Gotham in the first place. Arkham Asylum, a new security system there for those with superpowers. Narrowing his eyes Stiles dug a little deeper, hacking into the classified files about the security system. There was one flaw, one major flaw. So easily overlooked in the long run. Too many powers at once, too many people trying to use their powers at once, and the whole system would fry. It was due to get setup today. His Uncle didn’t know about it. Earlier he had overheard his uncle and Superman theorizing just what Lex Luthor wanted with Arkham. But they didn’t know about the security system.

Rushing down the stairs Stiles flung himself into the cave, landing next to a startled Superman. Even with the disapproving look sent at him from his Uncle, he could see the slight quirk in his lips that showed amusement. Slamming the papers on the table Stiles crossed his arms. Instead of questioning him, Bruce knew that Stiles liked to research anything that caught his attention and would often show it to him regardless of where or who he was at the moment, he just picked up the papers and flicked through them. The more he read the deeper the frown on his face got.

“How did you find this?” Bruce demanded.

“I may have… hacked into… Luthor Corp and read the information,” Stiles winced slightly.

“Despite my telling you to stay out of it?” 

“Maybe?”

“What is it?” Clark asked, his arms crossed over his chest.

“The security system in Arkham, the one that Luthor Corp has funded, it has a major design flaw in it. Especially with all the different superpowered villains in there. Any overuse in trying to use their powers, too much at once, and the whole thing goes down.” Bruce tossed the papers too Clark.

Stiles shifted awkwardly in his spot beside Clark. For now his Uncle was distracted, but that wouldn’t last long. And if he was going to be honest he was not looking forward to the inevitable admonishing he was going to get. You didn’t go against Batman’s orders and get away with it. At least not easily.

“We need to get there now,” Clark said, starting to float of the ground.

“No!” Stiles exclaimed, “You can’t go! You’ll just help overload the system. We need to fix it and replace the security without them learning. Those without superpowers need to go.”

“I’ll call in Hood, Nightwing, Batgirl, and Red Robin. Robin, you stay here and fix the code. Send it to us when you’re done,” Bruce ordered.

“But-!”   
“You’ve done good Robin. Finish the mission. Which you can do here.”

Deflating Stiles nodded. It was better than nothing, even if he was technically getting benched. However Stiles knew there was a bigger reason why Bruce was benching him. The Joker. He could escape from Arkham and there was no telling what Stiles would do. Jason had already crossed the killing line and Bruce wasn’t even going to risk Stiles crossing it. Taking a shaky breath, Stiles clenched his fists and looked down. A stiff nod escaped him and he headed to the computer.

It took over an hour, a long tenseful hour where he could hear every fight and every conversation, before he had the improved coding for the security system. The system that didn’t have a glaringly obvious flaw. Quickly uploading it to the computer gloves on all of the batclan’s computer glove (even Jason had one after a long argument with Dick that ended with them heading to Dick’s bedroom to talk it over (their version of talking was different than Stiles’ apparently) which ended with Jason getting one). Fumbling around with the comm link Stiles managed to turn it on.

“The code is on your gloves. One of you needs to upload it to the mainframe and it should take hold and override the last security update,” Stiles said.

_ ~I’m a few doors away from the control room~  _ Barbara replied over the comm.  _ ~I’ll upload it and head back out.~ _

_ ~We’ll herd them all to the cafeteria~  _ Dick added  _ ~Anyone in your hall Batgirl?~ _

_ ~Only a few unconscious guards. Place is deserted. Uploading now~ _

There was a long tense silence, even Clark was tense behind him. Soon there was a whoop from Dick’s comm and a quiet ‘Good job Batgirl’ from Tim. Relaxing Stiles slumped down in his chair, blushing when he got a ruffle on his head from Clark. Whereas Clark disappeared to go help cleanup, Stiles stayed behind. Opting to stay up to see them in before heading to bed. 

Ten minutes in, Stiles drifted off. He didn’t even wake up when the others returned, or when Bruce carried him up to bed, or even when he was changed into pajamas.

**_**********BATWOLF*********_ **

Today was the day, the day that Stiles was finally too join the Young Justice team. While he was excited (it was a tradition, every Robin joined when they were thirteen) he also had dread pooling in his gut. Making him feel sick and twitchy. Alfred had dosed him with his pills this morning; one for his ADHD, another for his anxiety, and a last for his PTSD. The pills didn’t seem to be doing anything however, the relentless gnawing at his gut didn’t relent. Ever since he had become Robin he had wanted to join the team. But now, now that it was  _ today _ , Stiles wasn’t sure if he really wanted too.

What if they hated him? Despised him. The other Robin’s were so well loved, well respected, by the team. Well, Jason had been totally awkward and probably a bit of an outsider (if what he heard from Dick was too believed) when he was actually part of the Young Justice team but afterwards they treated him like he had been one of their closest members. Already he was working himself up. Hands shaking, breath coming out in short pants. So, much like he had done when he first met Superman on the rooftops of Gotham, Stiles clung to Batman’s kevlar cape.

Thankfully his uncle didn’t say anything, just letting him do it. Stiles knew that Dick was meeting them there. Probably informing the team that Robin, the Robin that had been around for five years that none of them had met, was finally joining the team. That thought did nothing to comfort him. When he showed up they would have all sorts of expectations for him. The grip on the kevlar cape tightened. 

“You’ll be fine kid,” Jason grunted to him, red helmet tucked under his arm with the matching domino mask covering his eyes.

Everyone was in their costumes, including Stiles. Already Bruce had the whole spiel about keeping their identities a secret and that no one (absolutely no one) could know about Robin being the Bat’s nephew. Not that Stiles planned to in the first place. If anyone found out about them being related, there were so many scenarios in his head about how badly that would go down. Already it would be difficult enough just being Batman’s protege. All the expectations on his shoulder, especially based off of him being Robin for five years already. 

“Here we are. Hood, Red Robin, follow behind us,” Bruce ordered.

“Yeah yeah, go introduce the kid,” Jason muttered.

Stiles tightened his grip once again. If only he could hide in the cape like he used to do when he was younger. But now he was a bit to old. Not that it stopped him from wishing. And as far as he knew he would be the first Robin to actually hide inside of Batman’s cape when meeting the younger team, there was no way he was actually going to do it. Then again, he knew he wasn’t the youngest to join the team. That privilege actually went to Bart Allen, who was only a year older than him now if he remembered right. Ten when he joined the team. Not that he actually gave them a choice.

The Zeta Beam startled Stiles, even if it was only a second transportation. His grip on the cape, somehow, became even tighter. Nails dug into his palm painfully through the cape. However his grip didn’t loosen. The announcement of their arrival cut off any conversation going on and Stiles was startled by the sudden wind in his face, the cape dropping from his hand. Yellow goggles were the only thing he could see of the person, eyes staring right at him.

“Hi! I’m Bart! You must be Robin! Funny, I don’t remember any Robin with brown hair.” There was suddenly a hand holding a piece of his hair before it was gone. “I know all the Robin’s too. I’m from the future, well an alternate future. Maybe that’s why there’s a different Robin. Which number are you?”   
“Bart, hermano, slow down. You’re scaring the kid,” someone else said.

“Sorry Jaime.”

Suddenly he could see everyone again, not just the yellow goggles. Blinking slowly Stiles tried to process the overload of information. There was someone from an alternate future on the team (so researching that later) and he knew all the Robin’s. However in that kid’s future, Bart Allen he was guessing (the only current speedster on the team), he hadn’t been a Robin. Which probably meant he never met his Uncle Bruce, which meant his father hadn’t died and maybe his mom hadn’t too? Biting down on his lip gently Stiles glanced over at his Uncle, who didn’t even look over at him. 

“Team, this is Robin. Robin, meet the Team,” Batman said.

“Introductions are in order,” Nightwing added, taking over when Batman didn’t, “Who wants to start?”

“Umm, why is Red Hood here?” a blonde girl asked, a golden lasso by her hip.

“Why shouldn’t he be?” Bart demanded, “He’s a hero. At least in my future he was. Is he not here?”

“I prefer anti-hero,” Red Hood replied.

“Introductions,” Nightwing repeated.

“I’ll start. Bart Allen, Impulse but I think that superhero identities are stupid and don’t understand why they insist on-” the boy that called off Bart from earlier, Jaime?, covered the speedsters mouth.

“I’m Jaime Reyes,” so he was right, “also known as Blue Beetle. Bart ever gives you issues just call me.”

“Cassie Sandsmark, also known as Wonder Girl,” the blonde girl that questioned Jason earlier said.

“Kaldur’ahm, Aqualad,” he obviously seemed to be a leader, probably in charge.

“La’gaan, Lagoon Boy,” Stiles didn’t really like him. Seemed a bit stuck up to him, obviously trying to copy Kaldur.

“I’m Megan! The others call me Miss Martian, though some of the older members call me Miss M.” She seemed really peppy to him.

“Conner, Superboy.” He just seemed grumpy, not trying to impress anything and keeping it to the point.

“Artemis Crock, now known as Tigress. I’m just here to meet the new Robin.” That meant she wasn’t really part of the team, Stiles assumed at least.

“Wally West, Kid Flash. Also retired with Tigress.” That confirmed Stiles’ suspicion.

Everyone that was there introduced themselves. Now that left Stiles standing there awkwardly as the rest of the team had glanced at the others in the batclan, like Barbara for instance, as if waiting for them to introduce themselves. However none of them did and Stiles rubbed the back of his neck nervously. Batman was no where near him to hide behind anymore, Red Robin was standing between Wonder Girl and Batgirl, and Red Hood was leaning on the wall near Nightwing with a clear leer on his face. Wrinkling his nose slightly Stiles decided not to go bother them and instead he silently begged the world for something to happen to get them to rid the awkwardness. This was exactly what he was afraid of.

“Team, we aren’t only introducing you to Robin today. There is a meeting going on between Lex Luthor and Pamela Isley, also known as Poison Ivy, as well as Sportsmaster in Chicago. This is a covert mission only. Nightwing, Aqualad, I trust you two to deal with the rest,” Batman left in a flourish.

“You wanna take the lead on this Kaldur?” Nightwing asked.

“With the addition of Robin I believe it would be beneficial for you to place him with those you believe his skills would be best used,” Aqualad replied.

“Good point. Team Alpha consists of Wondergirl, Batgirl, and Red Robin. You three go through the vents, stay up high and out of sight. Team Beta consists of Blue Beetle, Impulse, and Robin,” Stiles looked up at his codename, “You three stay outside. Beetle in the air, Impulse and Robin on the ground. Impulse keep track of the perimeter, Robin on the rooftops nearby. Team Gamma consists of Miss Martian, Superboy, and myself. Team Delta consists of Lagoon Boy and Aqualad. You guys know what to do and I’ll bring Gamma up to speed on the way there. Hood, Tigress, Kid Flash you guys are welcome to join us if you want.”

“Nah, I should keep watch on Bludhaven for you Nightwing. You can pay me later,” With a wink Jason disappeared into the Zeta Tube.

“We’re watching Lian in an hour for Roy,” Artemis offered, Wally already disappearing into the tube after Jason.

The mission was simple, at first. Everything seemed to go downhill, the plants nearby having informed Poison Ivy of their presence. Stiles soon found himself surrounded by plants, vines wrapping themselves on his legs and making their way up his body. Squirming around Stiles tried to break out, but the vines got thicker with every slash of the birdarangs. Jaime, thankfully, found him and blasted the vines off before hooking his arms underneath his armpits and lifting him to the sky.

“Can you get me close?” Stiles shouted to him over the wind, “I can knock her out.”

“You sure amigo?” Jaime asked.

“Like, ninety-five percent.”

Jaime mumbled something that Stiles was fairly certain was directed at the scarab on his back. Yes Stiles knew about that thing that had its own mind. He was a Bat after all.

“You better know what you’re doing,” Jaime muttered, “Or else Khaji Da is gonna kill something.”

“I thought you could control that thing?”

“Umm… it’s fifty fifty most of the time.”

Stiles rolled his eyes and reached into his utility belt awkwardly. Pulling out some knockout pellets and this weird weed killing thing that Jason had put in as a joke and Stiles kept forgetting to get rid of (which turned out to be a good thing) before dropping them near Poison Ivy. She laughed loudly, Stiles getting a glimpse of the other teams fighting Luthor and Sportsmaster, before suddenly choking. Stiles desperately hoped what he did wouldn’t kill her, even as Jaime set him down on the ground before landing himself. Bart skidded to a stop next to them.

“Is she dying?” Bart demanded

“Um, the weed killing thingie should have just weakened her enough for the knockout gas to work… hypothetically,” Stiles winced.

“Khaji says its fifty fifty,” Jaime added helpfully.

“So hospital?”

“Hospital.”

**_*********BATWOLF********_ **

The team had gotten pretty close in the two (almost three in around a few weeks) years they worked together. Jaime, Bart, and Stiles had become a seamless team and were almost always paired together. Tim hadn’t left the team, exactly, but instead was almost like Jason in a way. When they needed him he was there, but for the most part he stayed in Gotham. However he was still a pretty permanent fixture in the Young Justice team, showing up quite often to just train them. He was basically another one of their leaders.

However what none of them knew, was that this mission was probably going to change things. It was a mission that Batman had done his best, unknown to Stiles, to avoid giving the team. Not only did this mission mean Stiles identity would most likely be blown to the team (at least the team members that would be going), but it meant Stiles returning to a place he hadn’t been since he was young. 

“For this mission,” Batman intoned deeply, “It requires being undercover for an unknown amount of time. I already have chosen the best candidates for this team. And that’s you four.”

The four chosen looked at each other. Standing there was Cassie, her blonde hair pulled in a ponytail and wearing her normal attire, Bart, his goggles pushed up into his flyaway red hair, Jaime, the only one in a completely casual look, and Stiles. Furrowing his brows Stiles wondered why exactly he had been chosen for this mission. There had to be a reason, otherwise Batman wouldn’t allow it. Undercover for an undetermined amount of time seemed almost unusual.

“Your covers have already been explained. You leave tonight. Red Hood is your mission leader and is being put undercover with you,” Batman said.

“Wait, what are our covers? And what is this mission?” Stiles demanded.

“Your names will remain unchanged, all except for your last names. Exception being you Robin.”

“The mission?” Cassie prooded.

“You are going undercover in Beacon Hills High School.” The blood in Stiles’ face drained. “We have reason to believe that there is a group of supernaturals wreaking havoc. You are going undercover to find the supernaturals, determine them friend or foe. This mission will most likely go throughout the rest of the time you’re in highschool.”

“That’s two years,” Bart spoke up, “ThoughI’vetechnicallyalreadygraduated.”

“Cariño, no one can understand you,” Jaime told him patiently.

Stiles ignored the two and instead stared at Batman. How could he do this to him? After all these years. He left after his mom died. It was too painful. And to return without his father, to the place where both his mom and his dad had died. This was… he…

“Jaime, Bart, and Cassie are all foster kids. Living with their foster parents. Jaime your last name has changed to Garcia,” Jaime hit a giggling Bart, “Bart yours is now Johnson,” Bart pouted, “And Cassie you are going with Demos. Your foster parent is Red Hood. Robin your cover is you’re staying with your brother for the remainder of High School due to the recent kidnapping.”

Stiles winced at the reminder. That had barely been a week ago. The injuries from that one were still fresh in his mind. They hadn’t really enjoyed the fact that Bruce hadn’t paid the ransom immediately after they sent it out. And when Batman showed up, it was really only due to the shock that the bullet had only grazed his side and hadn’t actually gone into his stomach like it was supposed to.  

“I’m assuming Robin gets to keep his last name?” Bart said, “Which is?”

After getting permission from Bruce, Stiles peeled off his mask. The others stared at him in shock before Bart shook his head.

“Yep, no Robin ever had brown eyes. All looked shockingly a lot like good ol’ Batsy over there,” Bart said with a grin.

“You’re Stiles!” Jaime yelped, “Bruce Wayne’s nephew that he adopted.”

“Guilty, Stiles Stilinski at your service,” Stiles gave a mock bow.

“Does your guardian know you are doing this?” Cassie demanded.

“He knows. Him and Batman go way back. Have each other on speed dial. Probably why he agreed to let me stay with Hood for this mission.”

Yeah, no way was he saying that Bruce was Batman. That was just a no go, despite the whole being able to reveal his identity to the group. If it weren’t for this mission he wouldn’t have been allowed too. Scratching his nose Stiles bit his lip. 

“You leave tomorrow. Pack up your stuff. Hood will meet you at the house. There he’ll reveal his identity to you. This mission will mean radio silence. Robin, let’s go,” Batman called to him.

Once they were home Stiles stripped out of the Robin suit and returned to his civilian clothes. Across from him sat his Uncle, also in civilian clothes. Stiles tried to figure out the best way to word what he was going to say. The best thing to do was too peel off the bandaid immediately, or else he was never going to be able to say it. Taking a deep breath Stiles ran a hand through his hair and looked his Uncle in the eye.

“I don’t think I should go on this mission as Robin,” Stiles shifted, “Robin stays in Gotham. I need to become something other than Robin.”

“What do you suggest?” Bruce replied.

Honestly Stiles was shocked by the easy take from Bruce. While Robin was, in some ways, Stiles’ birthright, it also was Batman’s. It wouldn’t be right to take Robin to Beacon Hills for an undefined amount of time (High School was only if they couldn’t finish it before and if they didn’t finish the mission by the end of the two to threeish years they had…) so he needed a new name. Like Tim and Jason did, like Dick. It was time to move on.

“Find a new Robin. Batman needs Robin. I can become a new Superhero, like how Dick became Nightwing,” Stiles bit his lip gently.

“Finding a Robin isn’t as easy as you think it is Stiles,” Bruce replied with a small laugh, “It’s not like I have a vault to pick them out of.”

“I’m sure you’ll find one. They just kinda seem to fall on your lap.”

“What will you become?”

Stiles bit his lip. This had been a long time coming, he had been thinking about a name. And making a costume wouldn’t be too difficult, especially since he had talked a bit to Alfred about what he was going to do when he grew out of Robin. If he was being honest Alfred had probably made the costume he had been talking about as soon as he had learned about this mission. It was time.

“Shadow Fox.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: For anyone else who was wondering, Stiles’ original superhero name was going to be Red Fox or Scarlet Fox. Originally I was just going to keep him as Robin until Season 3B but decided that Robin needed to be in Gotham with Batman. I also realized that I had forgotten about Stephanie so she is gonna be the temporary Robin (as in whenever Stiles is away from Gotham she’ll be Robin, but whenever he is there she is Spoiler)
> 
> Stiles: Kinda confusing but whatever.
> 
> Me: Well, let’s get to it.
> 
> Disclaimer Here → Now it's hard to see with all these flashing cameras in my face, but I love the way they play, throwing shadows on the stage
> 
> 3rd Person POV

 

The only thing that could've made the mission worse, well… It happened. Stiles was back in his old house, the house he grew up in. Freezing outside the door, he realized he hadn’t known what happened to it. Glancing over at his uncle, who stood by his side, Stiles wondered if he should ask. The answer seemed pretty obvious to him, as he didn’t remember his Dad ever actually selling the house. Maybe they kept it, willed it to Uncle Bruce. Who knows. But it was here, it was empty, it was exactly how he remembered it. The furniture was still there, the couch, even a few pictures that they left behind.

“Your room is where it was before,” Uncle Bruce said, a hand on his shoulder, “Jason is already inside. The others should be here soon. Everyone has their own room, Bart and Jaime upstairs. Cassie and you downstairs, Jason in the master bedroom.”

“Why did you choose me for this mission?” Stiles asked, ignoring the words earlier, “It brings me back to the one place I never wanted to return too, to the home that I had left behind, and I had to reveal my identity to the team.”

“Are you saying you preferred when it was secret?”

“It made it easier… less questions. Now keeping yours and my brothers identities a secret is harder. Especially since Jason’s identity is getting revealed as well.”

“Bart is the only one that knows the connection between us and Red Hood. I also made sure that the three joining you on this mission are trustworthy. They won’t say anything if they do figure it out,” Uncle Bruce told him.

Biting his lip, Stiles glanced back at the house. Taking a deep breath he walked up the porch steps, opening the door. Jason was already inside, in the kitchen. Instead of heading towards his brother Stiles returned to his old room. It was pretty much the same as it had been when he left, but with new covers on the bed and a computer on a desk near the door. There were only a few things on the bookshelf or the other shelves and nothing on the wall except a cork board. There were boxes on the ground and one on the bed, probably Bruce’s doing. Due to how long the mission was they had been required to basically pack up everything, their entire life, and got to Beacon Hills.

Sighing softly Stiles unpacked, pinning up a few things on the cork board and putting miscellaneous books and fandom merchandise on the bookshelf and other shelves. Hanging up his clothes and folding them into a dresser, Stiles slowly began to make the room more like his. Three balls of yarn were set on the desk next to the cork board with push-pins in a clear box. It was around this time that a blur appeared in his room and jumped on the bed.

“BART!” Jaime shouted from another room.

“Save me!” Bart exclaimed.

“What did you do?” Stiles asked, glancing over at Bart.

“Well, I might have decided that it was a good idea to speed unpack and…”

“It wasn’t a good idea?”

Bart shook his head quickly, eyes wide. A small snort escaped Stiles and he tossed a random baseball in the speedsters direction. Obviously it was caught, he wouldn’t be a speedster if it wasn’t, before set next to him. Barely a minute later Jaime appeared in the doorway, looking more exasperated than angry. Yet Bart yelped softly and seemed to sink down into the bed more.

“Is Cassie here yet?” Stiles asked, opening a drawer in his desk and setting a few notebooks and pens inside.

“Not yet,” Jaime replied, looking away from Bart, “Wonder Woman is dropping her off before dinner, amigo.”

“Good. Did…?” Stiles didn’t know how to finish his sentence.

“What?” Jaime and Bart said together.

“Did Batman tell you? About my past here?”

“No…” Bart glanced over at Jaime, seemingly forgetting about him hiding from the other male.

The only girl in the house poked her head through the door, long blonde hair falling to the side like a curtain. When she saw them inside she opened the door some more and stepped inside. Unlike the guys, who were all wearing jeans and various different graphic t-shirts, she wore a blue long sleeved crop top and a pair of jeans.

“What are we talking about?” Cassie asked, collapsing on the desk chair after brushing past Jaime.

“Robin’s past,” Bart moved over as Jaime sat on the edge of the bed.

“I’m going by Shadow Fox now, Robin needs to stay with Batman,” Stiles said, “You know my ID now. You can use it now, unless we need to use our secret ID’s.”

“What about Stiles’ past?” Cassie spun once in the circle before digging her feet into the carpeted floor to bring it to a stop.

“That’s what we were about to find out,” Jaime replied.

Every single spot in his room to sit was taken, so Stiles was stuck to lean against his desk with his arms crossed in front of his chest. This was going to be difficult and he quietly hoped they would just let him talk through it. His story was something he didn’t want to think about. It was easier to just continue on rather than look back. Yet he didn’t have any choice. Being back in Beacon Hills meant people would know who he is and questions would just be brought up.

“I grew up here, till I was eight. My mom died and my Dad and I moved to Gotham, since we had a family friend there and my uncle. Of course, I didn’t know about my uncle then. It wasn’t long after that my Dad died and my Uncle, Bruce Wayne, took me in. I was adopted and got my brothers; Dick, Jason, and Tim. They’re the only family I have left. Beacon Hills used to be my home, I left my friends here,” Stiles ran a hand down his face, “This was my room, my old room. I used to live here. Did you see that indent on the wall near the door? I fought my best friend, Scott, in the hall. My head banged against the wall.”

Sighing softly Stiles leant forwards and pushed off the desk. If he was going to find Scott, especially since he wanted to become pretty good friends with him again before school started in a little under a month, he needed to go now. They had been pen pals for a bit (more like as long as Stiles has been gone from Beacon Hills) and Stiles remembered Scott had been on the lacrosse team last year. Which meant that he was probably practicing somewhere, shouldn’t be too difficult to find him. And if he wasn’t then most likely he would be at home, which was the same as it had always been.

“I’m gonna go catch up with a few people I used to know.” Only Scott in the end. “Have Jason call me when I need to be back. And Bart, save me some food please.”

**_*********BATWOLF*******_ **

In the end Stiles was right. Scotty boy was practicing, alone, at the High School field. Despite there not being a goalie there were a few lacrosse balls scattered around the field. Leaning against the bleachers Stiles watched for a bit before walking forwards and swiftly taking the lacrosse stick, ignoring the enraged hey, picked up a lacrosse ball and threw it into the net. The ball hit the net and rolled down to the bottom.

“I see you haven’t gotten any better at sports,” Stiles said, weighing the lacrosse stick in his hand before tossing it back to Scott.

It was almost amusing to see the way Scott fumbled with the lacrosse stick, dropping it to the ground anyways, as realization slowly dawned on him. A small smirk crossed his face and with a twitch of his lips he slowly opened his arms. Like an excited puppy Scott leapt into his arms, hugging him tightly. It was only due to the random attack hugs Dick gave, and sometimes even Bart and Garfield, that Stiles didn’t fall over.

“Stiles! You’re back! Wait, are you just visiting or?” Scott asked.

“I actually don’t know how long I’m gonna be here for. Jason, my brother slash temporary guardian, and Uncle Bruce told me to expect to be here until senior year but also to be prepared in case I leave randomly.” Stiles pulled out of the hug.

“I still can’t believe your uncle is Bruce Wayne.”

“Believe it Scott. I’ve lived with him for around eight years now.”

Stiles nudged his shoulder gently, sitting down on the grass cross legged. Following his lead Scott collapsed next to him, sprawling out. Briefly Stiles wondered what would have been, in Bart’s future. Would this scene be playing out differently? Maybe he would have been practicing with Scott in that future. Or maybe his alternate self was dead. If he remembered right in Bart’s future the world had gone apocalyptic, due to the Reach.

“And you have three brothers? Isn’t Jason here? With like three foster kids?” Scott asked, “Sorry, mom said she had four kids physicals to do and your brothers’ name was listed as guardian.”

“No it’s cool. Cassie, Jaime, and Bart. Jaime is the only one older than us. Bart and Cassie are younger. Cassie is older than Bart. Bart is a genius, he catches onto things really fast.” Stiles was one of the few that knew that Bart couldn’t actually read. However that didn’t seem to stop the speedster from doing his best to get his high school degree. Instead anything he needed to read he used an audio book. A little under a month later he graduated from high school (under the name Impulse however, technically Bart Allen hasn’t graduated yet). “Jaime talks to himself out loud a lot.” The only excuse he could come up with for the scarab. Anything else he could think of saying would probably only make it worse. Besides, Stiles knows a lot more people that talk to themselves that don’t have a scarab on their back. “He also slips into Spanish occasionally, but usually it’s Bart’s fault. It’s only if he gets frustrated. Sometimes though it's a term of endearment. Cassie is… I don’t really know how to describe her. She’s the only girl and is really tough. But I can’t really call her a tomboy because she’s not. Just know that she can really fuck you up.”

“Stiles!”

“Sorry, I blame Jason.”

It was almost like he had never really left. They were falling back into place seamlessly. Once again Stiles wondered if in the timeline Bart had come from he had even gone to Gotham, even once. If he even knew about his uncle or his brothers. Well, technically in that timeline they would be cousins. Tugging gently on his hair Stiles felt his phone buzz. Silently hoping he hadn’t rebooted it again with his butt (it had happened a few times) Stiles pulled it out.

“You do realize you could have just texted me?” Stiles answered the phone.

 _~Texting’s boring.~_ Bart replied over the phone, in the background he could hear Jaime and Cassie arguing over some random topic.

“So I’m gonna assume that Jason wants me back. You left me food right?”

 _~Jason won’t let us eat until you come back. Whichmeansyoushouldhavebeenbackhoursagowhereareyou?~_  
“Bart, I can’t understand you when you talk that fast. I don’t even think Wally or Barry can understand you when you talk that fast.”

_~UGGGGGGHHHHHH~_

“Bart.” Amusement laced Stiles’ voice.

_~I will run over there and grab you~_

_~No you won’t~_ Jaime’s voice was clear over the phone.

_~But Blueeeeeeee~_

_~Cariño sit down. You won’t die if you wait a bit longer. Eat one of those protein bars tu tio gave you if you’re so hungry.~_

“I’ll be back in a few minutes Bart. You can last that long,” Stiles cut in, hanging up his phone before he could hear Bart whine even more.

Sometimes he wonders how Bart can actually be from an apocalyptic future. It wasn’t like Bart actually acted like he had been born in the middle of the end of humanity.

“Are you going to Beacon High?” Scott asked, “This school year I mean?”  
“Yeah. I gotta go though, Bart’s hungry and apparently Jason won’t let them eat without me there. Probably a good thing though since Bart could eat an elephant and still be hungry,” Stiles stood up fluidly and offered his old friend a hand, “Do you need a ride home? You’re on my way.”

“No, no. My mom is picking me up in a few minutes.”

Smiling slightly, Stiles gave a mock salute before trudging along the field. It was probably the best if he got back as soon as he possibly could. Otherwise there was a high chance that Jaime wouldn’t be able to keep Bart from running after him. Unless, of course, Cassie managed to grab him before he ran off. Which was almost impossible for Cassie to do considering that she is more strength than speed.

Pulling into the driveway, Stiles opened the garage. Once he parked inside he turned off the engine and opened the car door. Before he could get out of the car a streak of white and red appeared in front of him. One hand grabbed his and tugged him out of the car. A small laugh escaped his lips and he let Bart drag him outside. It was slightly faster than it would have been if Stiles just walked in, but that was mostly because Stiles was allowing Bart to do it. Otherwise he wouldn’t be able to drag Stiles inside the house.

“Sit down,” Jason ordered once he got inside, “Both of you.”

“Alright, alright. Jeez.” Stiles sat down next to Cassie. “Not even gonna ask me how my meet and greet with Scott did?”

“How did your meet and greet with Scott go?”

Scowling Stiles picked at the mashed potatoes, stirring his peas in with it. Sarcasm was just annoying, but Jason was probably one of the best at giving sarcasm. Only second to him of course. He was, and always would be the best.

“A little of this, a little of that. It was fun,” Stiles responded evenly.

“I’m sure.” Jason rolled his eyes.

The other three looked between them, Bart with food filling his mouth. Rolling his eyes Stiles stabbed his mashed potatoes before eating it. Silence reigned over the table. Jaime and Bart glancing between each other occasionally, Cassie playing with her food instead of eating it. The tension across the table was easily there. It was their first mission that they were actually undercover for, the first one that they didn’t have the older members there to tell them what to do (Jason didn’t exactly count in their mind), and no Batman there to swoop in and save them at a moment’s notice.

“Pass the salt.”

**_*********BATWOLF********_ **

On the roof of Scott’s house, Stiles smiled widely. His old friend was so jumpy, it was almost funny. And a lacrosse stick as weapon? He had to admire his friends forethought to at least think of grabbing a weapon. Most people didn’t even think of one. Seeing as it was something that he actually knew how to work with. Even smarter of a choice.

Stiles hung himself upside down off the edge of the roof. A scream escaped from his friends lips and Stiles pretended to be startled and flailed, flipping himself off the roof. It was only due to his training that he hadn’t hurt himself. Falling safely was a necessary thing to learn, especially when he was Robin. Shadow Fox hadn’t made an appearance yet, but Stiles knew that his new persona would come soon.

“Stiles!” Scott exclaimed, lowering the lacrosse stick.

“Dude, what were you planning to do?!” Stiles replied.

“I don’t know!”

“Anyways. Come on. There’s a dead body in the woods. Some hikers stumbled across it. We’re gonna go find it.”

The funny thing was, in Stiles’ opinion, how long it took Scott to fully wake up. Especially considering how he was already awake when Stiles came to get him. Confusion slowly shadowed his face, leaning back more in the jeep. Once they were around halfway there, Scott finally looked over at Stiles. The past Robin was rather impressed with his patience.

“If they already know where the body is… why are we looking for it?” Scott asked.

“Did I not mention?” Stiles knew he didn’t but he had to maintain his ADHD cover (which wasn’t hard since he had ‘forgotten’ his Adderall), “They only found half of the body.”

“Which half?”

Stiles actually didn’t know the answer for that so he shrugged. It was probably something he should have looked into as well. Uncle Bruce would be very disappointed if he knew that he hadn’t done that much research. Then again Uncle Bruce would be disappointed if he knew that he was taking a civilian into what could be hostile territory instead of one of the other heroes. However Cassie was out on a date with some guy she met at a restaurant (he couldn’t remember his name right now and Cassie hadn’t brought him over yet) and Jaime was being rather loud with Bart. There was no way Stiles was interrupting any of that. Besides, Jason was with the other cops looking for the body. At least he was keeping one of his Uncle’s rules, never go alone.

“Stiles!”

“What? I don’t know which one it is. Just hope it's not the bottom.”  
“I don’t think I want it to be the top either.”

Personally Stiles believed the top would be better, but he could understand why Scott would think it was better. Then again, Stiles was pretty much desensitized to any and all dead bodies. Except those in his family. He would never get used to seeing them like that, or even close. Shaking his head and getting out of the car, Stiles tossed him a flashlight and headed into the forest.

At some point Stiles saw flashlights up ahead and pulled Scott behind a tree with a hissed stay. Moving back around the tree he started forwards, breaking a branch on purpose. Some shouts reached his ears and he flinched when the light hit him. Despite having a few experiences with lights in his eye he was still fairly blinded, only being able to see the outlines of those standing in front of him.

“Hold up,” Jason’s voice called through the outlines, his outline moving closer and eventually coming into the light in front of him, “He’s mine.”

“Actually, I’m no one’s,” Stiles replied snarkily.  
“For now you’re mine, until B deems it safe for you to go home. Are one of my kids here? Or how about Scott?”

“Just me. You should learn to keep your calls private, especially with four teens in the house. Don’t forget that Cassie is very good at listening in.”

“I’ve got him from here guys. Why don’t you continue looking?”  
As he said that a howl ripped through the air. The two tensed, wolves weren’t in Beacon Hills. At least, not normal wolves. Biting his lip Stiles looked over Jason. Getting grounded would be so much better than leaving Scott out there to get in trouble and possibly die. They knew nothing about what was going on in Beacon Hills, with the supernatural and all.

“Scott was here with me,” Stiles rapidly told Jason, eyes wide, “He’s still out there.”

“Go look for him, call me if you find him. I’ll look, but I still have to help find the body.” Jason pushed him back towards where he had come from.

Not waiting any longer, Stiles rushed towards the tree Scott had been at. Just as he had expected, Scott was gone. Fear surged through his blood and his heart beat rapidly in his chest. This was not good. There was a very high chance that Scott was in trouble right now. Undoing his belt Stiles unfurled the whip easily. His utility belt was hidden under his shirt, but he wasn’t going to use that unless absolutely necessary. There was no way he would reveal his identity as the past Robin unless he had too. While he was friends, good friends, with Scott he didn’t trust him enough yet.

“Scott!” He found him, standing in the middle of the road in the rain.

After the original howl, Stiles hadn’t heard another one. That thought scared him. If there hadn’t been another howl, it meant that whatever it was had found and done what it wanted. Scott’s shirt was risen and… god was that a bite mark? Jumping out of the car, Stiles rushed towards him. The other boy hurriedly put his shirt down and looked towards Stiles.  
“It bit me!” he exclaimed.

“Shit, we need to get you to my house. Jaime and Bart will need to deal with it. Cassie should be home by now…” Stiles startled rambling as he pushed Scott into the car.  
“What? Stiles I need to go home. My mom can wrap it, if it’s infected she knows what to do.”

“No, this isn’t. Crap Uncle Bruce is gonna kill me. That is if I survive Jason ripping a new one into me.”

**_***********BATWOLF**********_ **

“Werewolves? You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Stiles groaned, looking back towards Bart in the backseat of the car.

The future boy raised his hands in surrender. They were on their way to their first day of school. Barely a week ago Scott had been bitten by what Bart called an alpha werewolf. According to Bart, he had known some people in the future that were werewolves. Close friends of his, until the Blue Beetle of the future killed them when they fought back. Bart, an honorary member of the pack, barely survived the encounter. Due to his metagene he had reacted to their death worse than a normal human would.

“You know Stiles, I remember where I heard your name now.” Bart leaned forward and rested his head on the back of Stiles’ seat. “You’re a known name in both werewolf and hunter communities. First human mate of an alpha werewolf, the emissary of your pack. Saved more lives than you took and protected your town against all sorts of threats. You’re a hero.”

“Mate?”

“Not what you think. You’re not destined to love him.” It wasn’t much secret in the group that Stiles’ was bisexual. “It's more like, your love is pure. You are… married I guess. Werewolves and such just call it differently than humans do.”

Stiles honestly didn’t know how to reply to that. There were so many questions in his head now. Had he stayed in Beacon Hills? What was this about him marrying a werewolf, an alpha at that? Did he even survive the apocalypse? Him and his… mate?

“Why are you telling me this?” Stiles asked.

“Well, we’ve changed so much about the future already. I don’t think telling you that will affect anything too much. All my spoilers aren’t really spoilers anymore,” Bart replied, getting pulled back in his seat by Jaime.

“Some of them still might be. Stiles is back in Beacon Hills isn’t he? What if what is happening right now is the same as it was before,” Cassie said.

“Uh, good point.” The youngest rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “So, completely ignore everything I just said and um…”

Shaking his head, Stiles pulled into a parking lot. Despite being able to have just about any car on the market (which he basically already did, including a motorcycle that he had brought to Beacon Hills for Shadow Fox) Stiles chose instead to keep his mother’s jeep. The same jeep that had followed them too Gotham, which had stayed in the garage until he had gotten his license. The others assumed it was just too stay low (despite everyone on the continent knowing Stiles was the nephew and adopted son of Bruce Wayne) and didn’t question it. No one knew the true story behind the car, no one but Jason.

“Why do I have to go to school? I’ve already graduated,” Bart grumbled.

“As Impulse cariño, not as Bart,” Jaime replied, getting out of the car once they were parked.

“It still won’t count though! I’ll be Bart Johnson here, not Bart Allen. Besides, I technically don’t even exist here. My parents are toddlers.”

“Be quiet. Undercover remember?” Cassie asked.

Everyone was wearing some of their nicer clothes, as just about every single kid wore their nice clothes on the first day of school. Stiles was wearing a plain black t-shirt with a flannel and some of his nicer jeans, Jaime was wearing a black hoodie with jeans and a grey t-shirt, Bart was wearing a zip-up hoodie and a graphic tee. Then there was Cassie; wearing a white tank top with a tan canvas jacket, torn jeans, and black flats with a matching black infinity scarf. She was the only one that took much stock in her outfit, even doing her hair where the others just brushed it.

“Kinda boring, I already know this stuff.” Bart scuffed his converse on the ground.

“Then you should breeze through the classes ese,” Jaime replied.

“Hey, you have Khaji to tell you everything you need to know. I just have my brains!”

“And the future on your side,” Cassie reminded him, hiking her backpack up higher on her shoulder.

“Stiles!” Scott appeared at his shoulder, stopping at the sight of the heroes.

While Scott had come over that one time, he hadn’t actually met the others in the house. Only Jason, who had helped stitch up his wound. It was the next morning that the others had learned about Scott getting bit. And, just as Stiles had feared, he had been torn a new one by just about everyone there. They were all upset at him for not getting one of them, even Cassie was willing for him to grab her from her date (apparently it ended badly).

“Umm… hi. I don’t think I’ve met you guys,” Scott said looking over at Stiles.

“Oh, Jaime is wearing the black hoodie. Bart is the only other male.” Bart gave him an affronted look while Jaime gave Scott a nod. “And that’s Cassie.”

“So Jaime is the only one that is getting a description? I’m slightly offended,” Cassie said, smiling in a teasing way.

Rolling his eyes, Stiles let Scott lead them inside. Immediately they were bombarded with sound and sight. Kids were walking and talking everywhere, all with backpacks over their shoulders. Yesterday they had come to school to get their schedule, locker numbers and combinations, and a brief tour of the school. That way they wouldn’t have to do it today. It was, surprisingly, Jason that had given them the suggestion. But it would definitely help today.

“Do you need to drop by the office to get your schedule?” Scott asked, once they were already at the class.

“Shut up,” Jaime muttered, probably to Khaji Da.

“We got it yesterday,” Stiles said over Jaime.

Everyone stared at the four of them when they sat down. Cassie was immediately drawn into a conversation with the red haired girl that Stiles recognized as Lydia, a lot older Lydia. The shocked look on Scott’s face clued him into the fact that Lydia was probably the queen bee of the school, which meant Cassie was definitely going to be in the popular crowd. No one else started to talk to them, Bart twitching in his seat and drumming his pencil on the desk while Jaime looked off into the distance (possibly mentally listening and or talking to Khaji). Stiles, however, was interested in Scott. The way he was acting was suspicious, looking around before focusing on someone outside. Following his gaze Stiles saw another girl, sitting on the bench with her backpack by her feet with her phone to her ear. Lightly tapping Cassie’s arm, effectively cutting off her conversation with Lydia (the redhead immediately talking to what Stiles suspected to be her boyfriend), and cocking his head towards the girl outside. The only female in the group focused her hearing outside.

“Why am I listening to this? She’s literally talking to her mom,” Cassie muttered.

A few minutes later the same girl from outside came in, got introduced as Allison Argent (which caused Bart to freeze and stare at her in shock), before sitting down in front of Scott. Stiles’ eyes narrowed when he tapped her shoulder and handed her a pen. She looked startled, but took it anyways. Next to him, Cassie frowned and looked over at Stiles, with a promise to talk later.

**_**********BATWOLF********_ **

Of course, of course they just had to get trapped with the alpha. And barely two weeks into school as well. And with civilians and a sheriff’s department that just won’t believe that they’re in trouble at the school. Too make it worse Jason wasn’t answering his phone and the department had hung up before they could ask to talk to him. All in all Stiles felt that this could only get worse, especially since the four of them couldn’t risk revealing their identities.

“Wayne,” Jackson barked at him, “Can’t you convince them too listen to you?”

“It’s Stilinski, and no. Most people don’t listen to ‘spoiled rich brats’ even if they don’t know them,” Stiles growled, “And Jason isn’t answering. My Uncle is too far away to be able to do anything anyways.”

“Why can’t you convince them ese?” Jaime asked, “After all, by your logic, you should be able too.”

All that they got in response was a low growl from Jackson. Right now they were locked in a cafeteria, how long they would be safe in here was another story. Sighing softly Stiles ran a hand through his hair and silently counted who they had in here. Four civilians; Scott (a werewolf in hiding), Allison (someone Bart refused to go near, they still couldn’t get out of him why), Jackson (a snobby rich brat who Bruce could easily put in his place with a single word), and Lydia (smart, but hidden underneath an airhead). Then there were the four heroes; himself, Bart, Cassie, and Jaime. All of them unable to risk exposing themselves. This would be fun. Please note the sarcasm.

A moment later the doors flung open and Bart was suddenly by his side. Pushing everyone out of the room before the alpha could be seen was the difficult part. Cassie locked the door behind them and they rushed up the stairs and down the hall before opening the door to the chemistry room and slamming it shut. All the chemicals should keep the alpha from smelling them properly (especially considering it was still smokey from the explosions someone *cough*Bart*cough* had made earlier that day). It was the safest they could do. Pushing a desk against the door was for safety only.

“Call the cops!” Jackson exclaimed.

“No,” Stiles replied, if Jason wasn’t answering they couldn’t risk more civilians coming.

“What do you mean no?!”

“I mean no. You wanna hear it in Spanish? NOH!”

An offended look came on Jaime’s face. A second later he hissed something to himself, aka the scarab, and looked frustrated. Stiles wasn’t sure he wanted to know. Besides, he was more amused with the red tomato impression Jackson was doing. He was a douche and got douchier after Stiles refused to be his friend. Earlier that day he had seen Jackson bully some kid. There was no way he would be friends with someone like that.

“We’re sitting ducks in here,” Allison whispered, standing close to Scott.

“She’s right hermano,” Jaime added his two cents, “We need to fight back. No we’re not doing that, or that.”

“Whoa, don’t diss the idea till we hear it,” Bart said.

“Use Lydia and Jackson as bait and run?”

“Soooo not crash.”

Stiles stifled a snort at the offended looks on both Lydia and Jackson’s faces. Apparently even the scarab didn’t like them. However they, Lydia, was Cassie’s friend. Not only would Cassie refuse to ever talk to them again if they went with the scarab’s plan, they wouldn’t be the heroes they thought they were. There had to be another plan.

“That door, it takes us to the roof,” Lydia suggested, “If we can get the key… but it’s on the dead janitors body.”

“No it’s not,” Scott replied, “I can go get it.”

“Whoa, not happening,” Cassie and Stiles chorused.

“You need to stay here, Cassie or I can get it. Or even Bart,” Stiles continued, “You are staying here.”

“I’m going! There’s no way you can stop me!”

“You’ll need a weapon,” Lydia mentioned, “I’m thinking a self-lighting molotov cocktail.”

“Ooooo, that’s so crash,” Bart exclaimed, practically vibrating in his seat.

Flipping her strawberry red hair over her shoulder, Lydia walked to the chemistry lab. It was almost funny the way Jackson followed her like a lost puppy. At least that showed who was in charge in their relationship. Stiles just hoped they weren’t going to mess it up, especially since Jackson was helping. It wasn’t like Jackson was very good at well… anything but being a douche and a jock.

“Here you go. Be safe.” Lydia handed Scott the cocktail. “And go keep us safe.”

“I can’t let you do this Scott.” Stiles grabbed the cocktail before Scott could take it. “You stay here. Cassie keep them from leaving.”

“Don’t boss me around.”  
“Cassie.”

“Fine.”

Before Scott could stop him Stiles slipped out the door, hearing Cassie slide the desk get pushed back against it. Now completely tense and feeling the rush of adrenaline. It pounded through his veins and made him notice things he normally wouldn’t. This was the time that Shadow Fox needed to make an appearance, his costume was hidden in his locker. In a hidden back that not even the strongest of noses can get through.

Changing was quick. The suit was a lot like Nightwing’s, in the sense that there was no cape but was skin tight. There was some sort of fabric that could be used to glide between the arms, it retracted when he wasn’t using them too keep from restricting his movements. His mask was basically the same as when he was Robin, but with a black to silver ombre. The suit was all black, with a silvery fox that curled into a backwards C.

Weighing the molotov cocktail in his hand, Stiles went to the bleachers. It was there he knew Scott had found the keys the first time. A howl ripped through the air and he tensed, slipping underneath the bleachers. With a quick tug the keys unhooked from the janitors dead body and he winced at the loud clangs. That was when the bleachers began to close. Quickly he jumped out of the way of the bleachers, unfurling the whip. It probably wouldn’t work with an alpha werewolf, especially considering that he hadn’t had the time yet to infuse it with mountain ash. He had been kinda busy looking for Derek, until recently at least.

“You’d make a fine wolf,” the voice was distorted and sounded more wolf like than human, “Who are you?”

Instead of responding Stiles snapped the whip at him. The end curled around the wolf’s ankle, but the alpha acted like it was nothing but a nuisance. All it took was a step and Stiles was forced to the ground, having tried to hold onto the whip. God he wished one of the others were here, at least then it wouldn’t be so difficult. One giant crazy alpha werewolf against a scrawny past Robin. Then again, Stiles doesn’t exactly play safe.

So he threw the molotov cocktail and, when it didn’t ignite, tossed a lighter into the fluids. The flames touched the alcohol and the alpha went up in flames. However Stiles’ arm got caught in the flames. Crying out in pain he quickly patted them out, feeling the burns on his arms. No one could know about that. Rushing out of the gym Stiles quickly changed back, trying to ignore the second degree burns on his arms and wrapping them with some disinfectant, before setting off the fire alarm. Water rained out of the sprinklers, he still didn’t kill (even if it was an insane alpha werewolf), and rushed back to the chemistry lab.

“Off mode,” Stiles called through the door, knocking.

The desk scratched out of the way and Stiles waved the keys in Cassie’s face. She smiled widely and took them from his hands. The other two appeared by her shoulders while the non-heroes slowly came out from the back of the room. Around them the sirens wailed from the fire alarm and it looked that Cassie was about to get a sensory overload. Those were difficult for them to help her get out of and it looked like Scott wasn’t far behind.

“Did you get them ese?” Jaime asked, Cassie showing him the keys in response.

“Let’s get out of here. The police and firefighters should be here soon and we should wait for them outside,” Stiles replied, “I don’t know if I actually got him.” Which basically meant that he wasn’t sure if the werewolf would be affected long with the cocktail, especially with the sprinklers going. “We can climb down the roof.”

Going down the ladder stretched the burns painfully. Sweat beaded on his forehead but he ignored it, already soaked due to the sprinklers. He had worse injuries, for example the whole thing with the Joker. Just remembering it made the carved J in his thigh twinge. His fingers slipped on the rung but Cassie managed to grab him before he fell, helping him grip the ladder again. A shaky exhale escaped him and he looked beneath him, Lydia and Jackson were already on the ground. Bart was near the bottom as well, taking his precious time. Scott and Allison were above Bart but below him. Cassie and Jaime were above him, due to their flying abilities. They’d be able to help sooner than anyone else would.

The sirens from firetrucks and police cars, ambulances not far behind, wailed louder as they pulled into the parking lot. Bart and Allison both jumped off the ladder and joined Lydia and Jackson on the ground. A second later Scott followed. Stiles clambered down and slipped off the ladder, standing next to Bart.

“Cassie! Jaime! Stiles! Bart!” Jason exclaimed, coming over, “Are you guys okay?”

“I thought Beacon Hills was supposed to be safer than Gotham. We just got locked in and chased throughout the school by a mad man!” Stiles exclaimed.  
“Do you know who it was?”

“Derek Hale,” Scott growled.

Next to him, Bart seemed ready to kill Scott. His hackles were raised, hands clenched by his side. Obviously Bart had either known Derek in the future (unlikely) or had great respect for him. Yet the speedster kept his mouth shut and instead glowered at Scott from afar. Even Stiles, though, was ready to snap at Scott.  
“Excuse you, we don’t know that,” Bart growled, “The only one that actually had a chance to see who it was is Stiles.”

“Bart’s right,” Cassie continued, stepping up, “All any of us could see was an outline of some big thing, breaking through the doors and attacking us. It sounded like he was dragging something sharp against the lockers.”

“Did you even see him?” Scott demanded.

“Not a good look. It was dark. Whoever it was tried to close the bleachers on me and killed the janitor.” Stiles swallowed deeply and looked at Jason. “I threw a molotov at him. It was supposed to be selflighting but I had to throw a lighter on it to get it to light. I don’t know if I hit him or not, I ran and hit the fire alarm. I didn’t want to kill him if I did get him…”

As if in comfort, Jason squeezed his shoulder. A lump grew in his throat, there was no way he would get checked over by a hospital. Even if he did have some bruised ribs (god that alpha werewolf was strong) and some second degree burns (at least they weren’t third degree) there was no way he would go. Not even Jason could get him to go. Besides, they had more pressing concerns.

“Get in the car, I’m taking you home. Scott, we’re gonna have a long talk about lying to the police. Even if you have a grudge against someone you can’t throw them under the bus.” Jason looked almost scary, which was enough for Scott to shrink under the gaze.

**_**********BATWOLF*********_ **

Who could know a Winter Formal could go so wrong? Unsurprisingly Bart and Jaime went together, getting an approving thumbs up from Danny. Surprisingly enough Cassie agreed to go as the ‘backup’ date for Jackson, who was taking Allison for Scott to meet there. However Stiles ended up being the rebound for Lydia, who didn’t seem to mind so much. All it did was up her popularity status, which probably hurt more than it should have. Back at Gotham he was used to it, girls asking him to the Sadie dances to boost their popularity status. It hurt, it really did. But Stiles mostly ignored it and asked the less popular girls to the dances that weren’t Sadies. Here however, Stiles had been hoping he wouldn’t be used that way. His whole reason for asking Lydia was too keep her safe. Peter Hale, the insane alpha werewolf, had a weird fixation on her.

But now, Lydia was in the hospital. Despite his best efforts she had gotten attacked and bitten. Jackson was there with her. Anger was boiling just beneath the surface and Stiles clenched his fists, taking a deep breath. Not only that but Peter had practically kidnapped him, he was alone. Separated from anyone that could help him. An extra Shadow Fox suit was in his car, but there was no way he would reveal himself.  
“You know Stiles, I should have bitten you. Scott is weak, but you’re strong. You’re special, I can smell it in your blood.” Peter sniffed his neck and smirked, baring his teeth against his neck. “Do you want it? I’ll give it to you.”

“Yeah, no thanks. I like being human,” Stiles replied, stepping back, “Just. Get out of here.”

Peter returned his bent keys and Stiles sighed, staring at them. That was just petty. When he looked back up Peter was gone. Rolling his eyes, Batman did that so much it was just annoying, Stiles glanced down at his broken phone. Was Peter just trying to be a nuisance? It was kinda old. Stiles shrugged and mentally cataloged where his car was before walking away. He needed to get to Scott and the others before anything happened.

Once he reached the street he ducked into a bathroom and changed into Shadow Fox, summoning the motorbike, before cycling down the road. Just putting on his Shadow Fox costume was dangerous. Peter might recognize his scent, or even Derek. Scott wasn’t that good at it yet but he might figure it out. After all he was still a werewolf. Sighing deeply Stiles turned on the comm.

“Anyone on? Alpha is heading towards the Hale House. He’s gonna control Beta and Sourwolf if we don’t do something.”

_~So not crash~_

“Hey Impulse. Is Blue or Wonder Girl with you?”

_~I’m here ese. Wonder Girl is at the hospital~_

“Anyone have eyes on Beta?”

_~I’m here, sorry. Beta’s not here. Guys?~_

_~Not with Blue or I.~_

“Shit. How about Sourwolf?”

_~Nada~_

_~No~_

“Head to the Hale House, I’ll meet you there. What about Allison?”

_~She’s not with me~_

_~Or us~_

Stiles cussed again and speed up. Most likely the other three would beat him there. One, no traffic in the air or defensive driving. Two, both Wonder Girl and Impulse were fast. Three, well Stiles didn’t exactly have a third. But the point has been made. Skidding to a stop outside the Hale House, Stiles saw both Scott and Derek get thrown out of it. Wincing Stiles unfurled his whip as Bart stopped next to him and the other two landed.

“Whoa, he’s ugly,” Bart announced.

“Impulse!”

“What?! I’m just making an observation Blue.”

“Impulse, distract. Wonder Girl help Scott and Derek. Blue Beetle, listen to Khaji as long as it’s reasonable. No killing.”

They listened to the orders, Impulse speed running around the alpha while Wonder Girl joined Scott and Derek in attacking. Blue Beetle flew around the alpha werewolf, using his sonic blasters whenever he found an opening. That left Stiles too do his job, fishing a molotov out of his motorcycle. This worked last time, he could only hope it would work a second time.

Impulse was suddenly grabbed out of his circle and flung at Blue Beetle. The two connected in the air and slammed into a tree. Stiles flinched as he heard a crack, either Jaime or Bart was injured. As bad as it sounded he hoped it was Bart, Jaime couldn’t heal as fast. It was now or never. Stiles slipped the molotov into his belt and snapped the whip. The end wrapped around the neck and he yanked. Once it was tight Stiles held on. As expected the werewolf tugged on the rope, Stiles skidding on the ground. Another yank brought him into the air and Stiles used the height to drop the molotov on the werwolf’s head. However what he didn’t expect was for the werewolf to release the rope and grab both the cocktail and Stiles. Claws dug painfully into his side, not deep enough to change him but deep enough to be painful. It was only due to the kevlar on his suit that kept him from getting the actual claws in him. A cry escaped his lips, even as an arrow flew through the air. It broke the glass and the molotov ignited. The shock of the pain caused Peter to drop him and he fell to the ground, pain exploding through his body.

Lifting his head Stiles saw Peter drop to the ground. His vision swam in and out, but he saw Derek walking over to his dying uncle. Revenge, vengeance, Derek was feeling it. Stiles could tell. It took a second but Stiles knew what he was going to do. Scott spoke up but Stiles didn’t. Nothing he could say would change what Derek was about to do. Shaking his head Stiles watched as a clawed hand lifted, before slicing through his uncle's throat. Blood sprayed the tree next to them and red eyes turned back and stared right into his.

“I’m the alpha now.”

**_*********BATWOLF********_ **

Water pounded his back, running down his body. Soaked hair blocked half of his vision, even as he stared down at the drain. A little mini water whirlpool took the dirt, grime, and blood into the pipes. All evidence of the little fight was disappearing. Water dripped off his nose, one hand braced against the cool tile. His thoughts whirled around, just like the whirlpool by his feet.

One hand reached between his thighs and traced the J. Unlike Jason, he didn’t cover it with synthetic skin. Not only because it wasn’t in such an obvious place, like Jason’s was, but because no one could see it there. The Joker had put his initial in such an intimate place on Stiles. Only one person, hopefully, in his entire life would see it. But no one would know that Shadow Fox had the mark of the Joker, something that would always remind him of that horrid day as Robin.

“Stiles,” Jason called through the door, “You okay?”

Stiles didn’t even know why he was thinking of the Joker. It wasn’t like Peter was insane like him, or that anything had happened that was close to what the Joker had done to him. Maybe it was just putting on a mask again, becoming a hero. Or even possibly just fighting again. The whip had been something he had used as Robin, even before the whole Joker thing. Stiles couldn’t even figure it out. Something had to have triggered this.

“Stiles?”

He should probably call his Uncle. Last time he had called was before Shadow Fox had made his debut. It was probably time to tell him. Yet it wasn’t like Shadow Fox had done much and most likely wouldn’t even show up more than what he had done then. The mission was over anyways, they’d be going back to their homes soon. But… the mission might not be over. Derek was alpha now and he didn’t seem the most stable of individuals. Who knew what he would do with his powers. Then there was Scott. The grudge he had against Derek was unfounded.

“I’m coming in,” Jason said through the door.

The water by his feet was clear now. Yet the hot water seemed to be burning into his back. It felt so good, keeping him from joining the water down the drain. Taking a shaky breath he lifted his head up and considered telling Jason not to come in. He was okay, it wasn’t like this was something he hadn’t done before. Now though it was almost like something was different. Something was wrong. But he could quite place a finger on it.

Then the water was gone and Stiles blinked slowly, even as a fluffy towel was put around his shoulders. His mind cleared slowly and he looked up at Jason. The older male was already in his pajamas (in other words sweatpants and no shirt) with his hair a mess. Stiles opened his mouth to form words but instead let Jason lead him out of the shower.

“What’s going on up here?” Jason tapped his temple. “You were so lost in thought you didn’t hear me call your name, enter the bathroom, or turn off the shower.”

“You called me?” Yet another thing for Bruce to yell at him for.  
“Yeah, I have.”

“I was just thinking, about the Joker…” Stiles admitted, once again tracing the J between his thigh.  
“And what brought this on?”

“I don’t know… something just… hit close to home and I don’t know what it was.”

Stiles changed quickly, ignoring Jason. In the Batcave there was no such thing as privacy. The amount of times they’d had to change in front of each other, or even occasionally completely strip naked due to an injury of some sorts, was in triple digits. When it was younger it had made him uncomfortable but it wasn’t long before he was used to it.

“Everyone’s waiting in the living room. Batman gave us an update,” Jason told him, leaning against the kitchen sink, “We’re getting some backup on this mission.”  
“What do you mean? I thought we completed it.” Stiles pulled his old superman shirt (he found it in Bruce’s room one day and just kept it, besides it made his Uncle a bit flustered and slightly jealous) on before ruffling his hair with the towel.

“Apparently not. Come on.”

Downstairs everyone was sitting in different spots. On the couch were Bart and Jaime, with Bart’s head on Jaime’s lap. Jaime was running his fingers through the speedster’s hair which was probably the only reason Bart was so still and content where he was. Cassie had occupied the armchair, legs curled underneath herself and leaning against the armrest. Deciding to let Jason take the other armchair, Stiles lifted Bart’s legs and sat where they used to be. The only complaint was a low disgruntled groan and a gentle kick on the thigh.

The arm that wasn’t petting Bart’s head was in a cast, which Jaime would have to deal with for around a month. As Stiles had suspected, but prayed wasn’t true, Jaime had ended up with a broken arm. All four of them had gone to the hospital afterwards, Jaime and Stiles with the worst injuries. Stiles had five puncture wounds in his side (which Khaji Da had confirmed wouldn’t transform him as the venom thing that caused the transformation was unable to enter his bloodstream due to his suit), bruised ribs, and a pretty nasty concussion. Then Jaime had a broken arm (his armor had saved him from a broken back), cracked collarbone, a concussion, and a sprained ankle. All in all it wasn’t as bad as it could have been.

“As you all know, Batman has contacted me. Our mission is continuing,” Jason said, after he sat on the armchair, “According to Zatanna there seemed to be some strong supernatural energy here. Until we can find the cause we need to stay here. But we’re getting backup.”

“Zatanna?” Cassie asked.  
“Try again.”

“Garfield?”

“He’s green cariño, he can’t blend in.”

“Nightwing,” Stiles said sullenly, crossing his arms.

“He has Blüdhaven to watch after, he’s not coming here… is he?” Cassie looked over at Jason.  
“Red Robin has graciously offered to watch over Blüdhaven for Nightwing until the mission is over,” Jason replied.  
“Does he have a cover?”

“He’s too well known in the community. But he is taking over for your deceased Chemistry teacher.”  
“Who is he?” Jaime asked.

“Richard John Grayson,” Bart answered, peeking one eye open, “One of the Flying Graysons, first ever Robin, became Nightwing after a fight with Batman and eventually got married. He’s pretty crash.”

“You do not know how to keep your mouth shut do you?” Stiles asked.

The only response was another kick. Stiles took it as a win. At least now Bart was relatively silent. Usually only Jaime could get him to shut up for multiple periods of time and that was only occasionally. Honestly Stiles didn’t want to know how Jaime did it and was not willing to ask.

“Where will he be staying?” Stiles asked.

“Officially, he is renting an apartment nearby. Though he’ll probably spend a lot of time here,” Jason replied. “You’ll see him at school monday. Now go to bed. It’s late.”

**_*********BATWOLF*******_ **

_~I have a new Robin. A girl this time~_ Bruce said over the phone, it was a safe line. Went through the League satellite rather than any random one. _~Wasn’t too sure about her at first~_

“Why was that?” Stiles was distracted, partially, by a homework assignment. He wondered if he could just copy and paste his old economics paper. At least this time male circumcision would make sense, this class was biology and they were learning about humans.

_~Her father, Cluemaster~_

“I can see why. Does she have dark hair?”

_~Blonde. She was going around as Spoiler for a bit, kinda an anti-hero. Wanted to meet you, thinking this summer?~_

“Is that a way of saying I’m returning for the summer? What about the others?”

Stiles leant back, away from the essay and the computer. In all honesty he wouldn’t go back if the others weren’t allowed too. This mission was all of them together. It didn’t matter if it would mess up their cover. They had families, all of them. Cassie had Wonder Woman and her family back on the island that was harder to pronounce than Stiles’ own name. Bart had the Allen’s, Barry and Iris, as well as his child parents. Then Jaime had his very big family, all of them. Even Stiles could see the homesickness creeping in on them.

_~They’ll be allowed to return home for the summer as well. However you all have to return at the same time.~_

“I have to ask… did you choose the four of us because our family knows? The Allen’s know about Bart, I don’t even need to explain Cassie, and Jaime told his family after the whole Reach incident.”

_~That’s part of the reason~_

“And?”

_~You four work well together. Jaime and Bart have been part of the same team since the beginning, you joining not long after. Cassie worked well with Tim and works well with you as well. Do you remember the first mission you four all worked together in?~_

“Yeah.”

It had been a bit before this current mission. At first the three of them were cautious, especially around Cassie. They had never worked with her before. It wasn’t until she risked her life for Stiles. The mission had gone downhill, the Joker was there. Cassie had inhaled the laughing gas before Stiles could inhale it, as his filter hadn’t been working. It was only due to Stiles’ quick thinking and actually having the antidote on him that he had saved her life. After that the four of them had worked seamlessly together and returned Joker to Arkham (after the Joker nearly gave Stiles a panic attack) before finishing the mission. After that they were almost always put together as a team, but the boys were always paired together.

_~You guys work the best together as a team. Even the original team didn’t work as well as you four do~_

“I’ll tell Dick you said that. Tell me more about the new Robin.”

_~If Barbara wasn’t Batgirl I’d make Stephanie Batgirl. Her and Tim already get along and they fight well together. Surprisingly enough it was Selina that sent her my way.”_

“Catwoman?”

_~The very same. Stephanie already told me that she would step back and become Spoiler again if you wanted to take up the Robin mantle again when you come back~_

“Don’t you think I’m getting a bit old to be Robin? I’m sixteen now. Besides, Shadow Fox is working out for me.”

_~I know Stiles, she made me promise to tell you. Besides, Stephanie is only fifteen.~_

“I’m still trying to imagine Robin as a girl.”

_~Really Stiles?~_

Stiles spun himself around in the chair. It wasn’t like what his Uncle just said deserved an answer. Waiting for something else to be said was the best course of action here. At least in his own opinion. And hey, at least his Uncle wasn’t admonishing him for all the mistakes he had made.

_~How are you doing?~_

“What are you talking about?”

_~Jason has been keeping me updated about what’s been happening. In that report it included your little… meltdown in the shower.~_

“It wasn’t a metldown, I was lost in thought.”

_~Stiles~_

Wincing slightly, Stiles slowed the chair to a stop. Instead of answering he gnawed on his lower lip. Okay, so he wasn’t doing the best at the moment. Sue him. It had only been around a month.

“I saw the news in Gotham…” Stiles whispered. There was a sharp intake of breath on the other side of the receiver. “He was so close to getting her too… all that I could think of…”

_~Stiles, I’m keeping her safe~_

“It’s the Joker we’re talking about her. No one is ever safe with him out. Much less when Harley is with him.”

_~I sent her on a mission with the team. Stephanie isn’t in Gotham right now, neither is Barbara~_

“You know he doesn’t stay in Gotham all the time. If he wants Robin he’s going to go looking.”

_~Stiles…~_

“And I heard what he said Bruce. He asked about me, where I am. Bruce he’s after me.”

_~He’s not Stiles. Calm down~_

A shuddering breath escaped him and he bit down on his tongue. Blood filled his mouth and he quickly let go, nursing his tongue gently before spitting the blood out. Bruce was quiet in his ear, giving him time to calm himself. A few shuddering breaths later Bruce spoke again.

_~Joker and Harley are my business Stiles, and I’ll take care of it. You take care of your business there~_

“Okay.” His voice was quiet and he sounded exhausted, even to his own ears. “Okay.”

_~Go to sleep, you need it. Goodnight Stiles.~_

“Night Bruce…”

All he heard was the dial tone. Gently setting his phone down on the bedside table, Stiles ran a hand down his face before reaching up and tugging at his brown locks. How many times had he wished that Jason had actually killed the Joker all those years ago, or that Bruce had killed the Joker after Jason’s death. Then he wouldn’t have been a victim of the Joker either. This fear was not irrational. Most would think his fear of clowns is, except those that knew the root of it.

Crawling into bed Stiles stared up at the dark ceiling. Shadows crawled along it, tricking his eyes into seeing things. Yet he didn’t look away. One of the shadows seemed to reach out towards him, but it never touched him. Sighing softly Stiles turned onto his side and looked at the blinking lights of the clock. Then, finally, closing his eyes Stiles drifted off into the realm of Morpheus.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: Wow, long chapter. So you should be happy I actually managed to write this. I managed to slam my thumb in a door and it might be broken, haven’t actually checked yet. It’s really difficult to type and I have on a splint to keep my thumb locked in place.
> 
> Stiles: She was dumb.
> 
> Me: Shut up.
> 
> Review Request Here → I’m unsure of a pairing for Cassie, any gender is cool for me. Leave suggestions please.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: This starts at the beginning of the summer and should end near the end of Season Two.
> 
> Stiles: Basically she’s breaking these down into seasons. However for Season 3A, it’s going to be a different chapter than Season 3B. Get the gist?
> 
> Me: Also, I’ve done a bit more research on the ages and stuff and moving it to my shaky timeline and I have decided to FIX THEIR AGES. So here it is. I also apologize for any inconsistencies in the story. If I can I will try to fix it in the past chapters but there will be no promises due to the fact that the documents no longer exist on Fanfiction. Archive will be easier to fix and I will work on that soon.
> 
> Jaime Reyes: 17
> 
> Bart Allen: 14
> 
> Cassie Sandsmark: 15
> 
> Stiles Stilinski: 16
> 
> Jason Todd: Legally he’s 18 but all documents say he’s late 20’s (according to the timeline of YJ he’s eighteen but then the whole cover wouldn’t work so the Bats forged documents)
> 
> Richard ‘Dick’ Grayson: 20
> 
> Disclaimer Here → I was scared of dentists and the dark. I was scared of pretty girls and starting conversations.
> 
> 3rd Person POV

 

Jaime was used to feeling out of his depth. Ever since the scarab, Khaji Da, had attached himself to his spine it felt like he was constantly overwhelmed. One minute he was a normal kid, skating home from school, the next he was Blue Beetle. A superhero with a bunch of other superhero friends and one superhero boyfriend. Then there was Stiles, a conundrum wrapped up in an enigma. Even Khaji didn’t know just what to make of him. 

_ [You are distracted Jaime Reyes] _

“Shut up,” Jaime replied, running a hand down his face.

_ [Distraction can cause our death] _

“How did the Blue Beetle’s before me handle you?”

Khaji didn’t reply. A small huff escaped his lips, even as Bart suddenly appeared in the car next to him. They were on their way home from Beacon Hills (which was apparently where Stiles’ had been born and raised for eight years of his life) where they would meet up with their mentors. Well, in everyone’s cases but his own. Technically, however, Jaime’s mentor was Khaji Da. But the scarab wasn’t exactly a good mentor, constantly trying to convince Jaime to kill or destroy anyone and anything that even poised the minorest threat to him. Only recently had Khaji warmed up too Bart and stopped trying to kill him whenever the two kissed.

“CassieandStilesaretakingforevertoopackandIofferedtopackforthembutStilesthrewabatarangatmeandCassiethreatenedtoopunchmethroughtheatmosphereandintospace,” Bart exclaimed, pouting once the sentence was over.

“Bart, cariño,  ralentizar.” Jaime placed a hand on his shoulders. “Slow down.”

“Sorry.” Bart blushed and looked up at Jaime. 

“Care to repeat what you just said ese?”

“Cassie and Stiles are taking forever. I offered to help but they both threatened me. Which isn’t crash by the way.”

_ [The Impulse is getting threatened. Destroy those that threaten him] _

_ [I remember you threatening him as well ese] _

A finger snapped in front of his face, startling him. On his spine Khaji buzzed angrily, the armour barely getting restrained by his control. It was weird, how if he spoke out loud to the scarab Bart would answer as though he was talking to him. But if he spoke to Khaji mentally Bart would think he’s ignoring him (which was a great offensive to Bart) and do his best to regain Jaime’s attention. 

“What?”

“Are you paying attention?”

“Not really, Khaji was telling me something.”

“The scarab. It’s so crash that you can speak to it. What is it saying?” Bart leaned closer and Jaime rolled his eyes.

“The usual. Destroy.”

In the front Jason honked the horn, even as Stiles rushed down the front steps and threw his bag into the van before sitting in the back. Cassie followed not long after and sat in the front with Jason. They were all heading to the closest zeta tube, before using the zeta too head to Mount Justice. It was there that they would all split up to their respective houses with their respective mentors. Except it was Nightwing that would take him to his own home, make sure he got back safely. It was weird to think that in the past, back when Nightwing himself was one of the teenagers in the team, they had League members in charge of them. Even if Batman was still somewhat in charge of them

“Jaime, Jaime, Jaime, Jaime.” Every single time Bart said his name he got poked.

_ [The Impulse is poking us. Poke back] _

“No.”

“I’m booooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooored.” Bart sprawled himself over Jaime’s lap.

_ [The Impulse is complaining. Feed him] _

“What do you want cariño?”

On his lap Bart twisted his body, turning so that he could face Jaime completely. Whining deep in his throat Jaime raised an eyebrow. Despite what Khaji believed feeding Bart didn’t make everything better. It made things easier sure, but it didn’t fix things every single time. Though Jaime didn’t really have access to anything other than food, so maybe Khaji Da wasn’t too far off.

“I’m boooooooooooooooooooored. Can’t this car go any faster?” Bart kicked at the seat in front of him. 

_ [Feed the Impulse, Jaime Reyes] _

“Shush. Be patient ese.”

“But I’m-”

“Bored, we know,” Cassie growled, turning around in her seat, “Now stop kicking the seat!”

“Sit up,” Jason barked at Bart, “If we get in a crash it’s not my fault when your neck breaks.”

“Please don’t crash,” Stiles muttered in the back.

The only response was a growl from the adult. A second later there was a poke in his side and Jaime looked down with a soft sigh. It seemed that despite the relatively short drive, barely an hour to get to the nearest Zeta Tub (in Hub City), Bart was going to be a menace. In order to keep their cover they had too drive there, so Bart couldn’t run and him and Cassie couldn’t fly. All in all it was going to drive everyone crazy.

“Almost there, so calm down cariño,” Jaime said.

“But I’m still bored. Why couldn’t I have just run? I’d be there by now,” Bart complained, pushing his feet against the door.

_ [Suggested tactic, feed the Impulse] _

_ [What’s with you and food right now?] _

“You know why ese.” Jaime said, after replying mentally to Khaji.

“It’s a stupid reason.”

Shaking his head in response Jaime reached into his bag and handed Bart a package of licorice. As though given a prize of gold Bart sat up in his seat and began to devour the licorice. At long last silence. Maybe Jaime should have listened too Khaji earlier.

_ [This is why you should listen to me] _

“Shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything!” Bart exclaimed in a hurt manner.

Instead of responding Jaime gently patted his shoulder. In the front seat Jason glanced at them through the rearview mirror. Turning into an abandoned alley Jaime tensed slightly. He’d never been to this zeta tube before. Judging by the looks on the others faces they hadn’t used it before either. The better question was why one was here.

“Everyone out,” Jason ordered, stopping the car.

“Where’s the zeta tube?” Cassie asked, slipping out of the car.

“See the family bathroom? It’s in the out of order stall. Now I’m going to park the car, you guys head in.”

_ [There are over a thousand of harmful germs in that bathroom Jaime Reyes. Do not touch anything] _

“Gross,” Jaime muttered to himself.

“Eh, better than the future,” Bart said. 

“Do I even want to know?” Stiles asked, looking up from his phone.

No one responded to the question and Stiles muttered something too low for anyone (except possibly Cassie) to hear. Sighing softly, Jaime glanced at the other three to see who would go first. A small smirk crossed Stiles’ face and he gave a fake bow in Cassie’s direction.

“Ladies first,” Stiles said.

“Gee, thanks,” Cassie muttered, heading into the broken stall.

_ Wonder-Girl B-2-1 _

There was a bright light, bright enough to blind them all, before the stall was empty. As though summoned by the disappearance of Cassie, Jason entered the family bathroom. He didn’t seem bothered by the grime covering the bathroom or the smell of poop permeating the air. It made Jaime wonder exactly what the eldest of the group had gone through. Especially in the short time he’s been alive (which was shorter than most considering his two year death). 

“Who’s next?” Stiles asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Someone just go. Before I force someone in the stall,” Jason growled.

“Touchy.”

No one moved for a while. There was no way Jaime was going next. The warning from Khaji was enough for him too not want to even touch the stall door to get inside. Getting sick over the summer didn’t sound fun (especially due to the minor fact that he needed to go get a job anyways) and he did not want to even risk it. The others could but he wasn’t even going to touch anything without gloves. 

“Fine,” Stiles grouched, entering the stall.

_ Shadow Fox B-2-7 _

Once again there was another bright light, enveloping the form inside the stall and seeping through the cracks. Raising an eyebrow over at Bart, who was still munching on the licorice, Jaime cocked his head. The youngest in the group sighed softly before stuffing the licorice in his pocket and disappearing into the stall.

_ Impulse B-2-3 _

The light appeared under the stall, shining on Jaime’s tennis shoes. Once it was gone, Jaime knew there was no more stalling. Sighing softly he pushed open the door, hand covered by his sweatshirt sleeve. A light covered his body, making sure he was in the system.

“Blue Beetle, B-2-2.”

Repeating the name and designation, the zeta tube transporting him from the place outside Hub City into Mount Justice. His name and designation was repeated once again as he walked out of the tube area. Soon Jason would be following, which meant he should probably be out of the way. He did not need another experience with that (it was all Bart’s fault).

_ [Pay attention Jaime Reyes, the Nightwing and Batman are waiting] _

“Sorry,” Jaime muttered, but silently wondered where Aqualad was.

_ Red Hood B-1-3 _

Jason strolled up behind Jaime, pushing him forward. The slight stumble was due to the shock of Jason actually making contact with him. He had kinda suspected (or assumed) that Jason wouldn’t be as affectionate to them. While he had been affectionate while they were in Beacon Hills, none of them had expected it to continue when they were back at Mount Justice. 

“Come on kid,” Jason ordered.

_ [I told you too stop being distracted Jaime Reyes] _

“Shut up.” Jaime crossed his arms.

“Go.” Jason pushed at Jaime again.

“Sorry.”

Moving between Bart and Stiles, Jaime looked up at Batman and Nightwing. While Nightwing seemed almost bored, leaning against the wall behind and a little to the right of the Bat, Batman looked stern and just as scary as always. To his right Stiles had his arms crossed, looking bored, whereas on his left Bart was practically vibrating from impatience. Then there was Cassie, tired from the late night and early morning, drifting off where she stood.

“I know you’re all tired and want to see your families, so I’ll keep it brief,” Batman said, “When you return back to Beacon Hills next school year you are too watch Derek Hale, the alpha, and keep track of his movements. Note everyone he bites, learn their backstory, and deem them trustworthy. Try to help him and guide him in his way.”

“If we were going to do that we should have stayed there,” Stiles said.

_ [He is right. Gain the alpha’s trust then strike him down] _

“No,” Jaime snapped, blushing softly when the others looked at him, “Sorry…”

“Nightwing,” Batman continued as though Stiles and Jaime hadn’t spoken, “will be accompanying you back, as you already know. I believe Red Hood has already told you the basics. You can debrief tomorrow. Dismissed.”

The first two that left were, unsurprisingly, Batman and Stiles. Those two were probably going to catch up, having been apart for so long. If his mom was allowed to be in the system, Jaime was certain she would be here waiting for him. However she wasn’t so Jaime had to wait for one of the mentors to take him home.

“Hey, hey, hey Jaime.” Bart suddenly leapt on his shoulders.

_ [The Impulse is aggravating. Feed him] _

“What?” the question was directed at both Khaji and Bart.

_ [Suggested tactic of removing the aggravating presence. Food] _

“Grandpa Barry’s late, which is the usual but still not crash, so let’s hang out,” Bart said.

“So not cool,” Jaime muttered, focusing more on Khaji before he looked up at Bart who was pouting, “That your grandpa is always late.”

“Meh, I’m used to it.”

Before Khaji could repeat that he should feed Bart (which was the usual tactic he got), the speedster slipped off his shoulders and grabbed his hand. Deciding it was best to just follow Bart, even as Nightwing and Red Hood quietly laughed at them, Jaime let himself be dragged to the den. Who knew who was going to be the one to take him home.

A movie was already playing inside, Garfield curled up as a cat on one of the pillows with Cassie sprawled out on the ground (so that was where she disappeared too after Stiles left) in front of the couch. Already she was asleep, her blonde hair covering most of her face. For once Bart didn’t speed onto the couch, instead carefully crawling over the top and sitting on one of the cushions. Jaime followed carefully, stepping around Cassie before settling down besides Bart. 

_ [This movie is stupid] _

“It’s Disney,” Jaime replied.

“I’ve never seen this movie.” Bart squirmed around until he found himself comfortable, which meant his legs were on Jaime and his back leaning against the armrest.

“You’ve never seen Inside Out?”

Jaime silently deduced the movie was on replay or something, because the opening credits had just ended. That meant that Bart could (possibly) finish the whole movie. In his head Khaji was suspiciously quiet, as if waiting for Bart’s reply. A silent shake of his head was the only thing Jaime had to go on. Then Bart’s nose scrunched up and he pointed a finger at Jaime.

“You don’t need to look so disbelieving. There are no movies in the future.” Bart crossed his arms, nose still scrunched. 

“None whatsoever?”

“The Reach didn’t exactly let us relax and watch movies. I was a slave Jaime.”

Feeling like a slight jerk, Jaime went quiet. It was very,  _ very _ , rare that Bart let anything slip about his own personal life in the past. They all knew it affected him, greatly, and he was doing his best to change it. Everyone knew that Bart knew more than he let on, kept quiet about anything important while talking about anything and everything else. Sometimes Jaime would catch Bart looking into the distance, eyes dark and shadowy. The thousand mile stare, something usually seen in soldiers. Yet that look was often seen in Bart’s eyes, when he thought no one else was watching.

Then there were the nightmares. Bart sure was a screamer. The Beacon Hills group had lost count of how many times Bart would awake screaming from a nightmare. Jaime always pretended to be asleep when Bart would sneak into his room, occasionally cuddle up next to him in bed. It wasn’t like he minded, though the nights Bart didn’t join him he often lay awake wondering if Bart had fallen asleep on his own or if the nightmare was enough to keep him from seeking comfort. Occasionally he would wonder if the nightmare was about him, the Blue Beetle him where the Reach had succeeded in keeping him on mode. 

His thoughts were broken by Bart changing position again, choosing to cuddle up with him. Both stayed quiet, Bart’s eyes securely focused on the movie. The tension seeped out of Bart as he continued to watch the movie, Jaime smiling slightly when he took notice. Khaji stayed quiet through this whole time, choosing to let Jaime watch the movie without commentary. A rare occurrence (the amount of times he watched the Little Mermaid with his sister and Khaji making inappropriate comments in his head was too many) so Jaime decided to enjoy this time while it lasted. 

_ [The Flash is approaching]  _ Khaji announced in his head, during the most heart wrenching scene of the movie. You know, the very end. 

It was enough to make Jaime jolt slightly. However it, thankfully, didn’t upset Bart who just moved closer with a grumpy mewl. The hand on his hoodie gripped it tighter and Jaime gave Khaji a mental glare. It didn’t seem to affect the scarab in any way so Jaime soon gave up. A few seconds later Flash entered the room, his cowl up and looking slightly flustered. Jaime silently wondered if he realized just how late he was. Then again, his own temporary mentor hadn’t come to take him home yet.

“Bart-”

“SHUSH!” Even Jaime was startled when the pillow, that Garfield had been on too, was thrown at Flash. It connected and Garfield shifted human again, looking dazed and startled on the couch. Thankfully he hadn’t been on the pillow still when it hit Flash. Even Cassie jolted awake, brushing her hair out of her face and looking over at the startled superhero.

_ [Impulse is upset, suggested tactic… cuddles and food] _

“Whoa cariño, no need to kill your Grandpa,” Jaime set a hand on Bart’s shoulder.

Instead of responding Bart settled back down, ignoring the shocked look on Flash’s face, and continued watching the movie. Jaime glanced over apologetically at the superhero before wrapping an arm around the smaller male’s shoulder. It would probably be best just to finish the movie. Which seemed to be the same decision Flash made as he settled himself on the open armchair. The movie finished, Bart’s eyes suspiciously watery but no tears seemed to have fallen.

“I’ll see you soon cariño.” Jaime squeezed his shoulder.

“Don’t get used to being alone! I’ll be back when you least expect it!” Bart gave his signature salute before sprinting out of the den with Flash not far behind.

“You ready to go?” 

The voice behind him managed to startle him. Usually Khaji announced someone’s presence, which he didn’t this time, so it made it difficult for people to sneak up on him. This time however the scarab had been silent and well, yeah.

“Hey Nightwing,” Jaime greeted from where he had fallen on the ground.

Nightwing just raised an eyebrow, “You ready?”

“Uh…”

“I’m the one delivering you too your family. If we don’t leave now you might miss dinner.”

“Oh…”

“And Cassie, there’s a Ms. Prince here for you.”

Standing up from the ground, brushing his jeans off awkwardly, Jaime walked over to Nightwing. The older superhero set a hand on his shoulder before leading him too the zeta tubes. A bright light surrounded him and Jaime found himself back in his home town. Nothing seemed to have changed, even the dry air was the same. Nightwing appeared behind him and Jaime took a deep breath. It felt weird being back home.

**_*************BATWOLF**********_ **

That night Jaime was awoken by the scarab announcing Impulse. Blearily opening his eyes he saw Bart sitting outside his window, looking immensely unsure about himself. Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, Jaime stumbled over to the window and opened it. Bart started from where he was sitting and blue eyes stared at him widely. Yawning Jaime stepped aside, letting Bart decide whether or not to accept the invite.

Still looking unsure Bart slid into the room, closing the window behind him. Instead of making small talk Jaime returned to the warmth of his bed. A second later Bart was by his side, cool wind from the speed ruffling Jaime’s hair.

_ [The Impulse is conflicted] _

“Did I wake you?” Bart asked, shifting from foot to foot.

“Don’t worry about it cariño,” Jaime said sleepily, “But I’d prefer if you would just join me and sleep.”

There were a few more seconds were Bart stood there unsure, Jaime could feel his presence despite his closed eyes. Then the bed dipped beside him and a warm body snuggled up to his. One arm wrapped around his torso and Bart buried his face into Jaime’s back. Humming softly Jaime rolled over and wrapped an arm around Bart, tugging him closer.

“Nightmare?” Jaime questioned softly, finding himself unable to sleep.

“Grandpa Barry woke me up, said I was screaming,” Bart mumbled.

“Did you run here without explaining?” Even Jaime could hear the sleep in his voice.

“I just acted.”

“Do you remember what it was about?” Jaime buried his nose into Bart’s red hair, releasing a content hum.

_ [The Impulse’s heart rate is accelerated] _

Jaime assumed he meant more than normal. It would make sense, especially if Bart was thinking of the nightmare. Usually Jaime didn’t make Bart talk, especially considering how he was pretending to be asleep, but this time he felt Bart needed a little push. Especially considering how Bart had ran all the way to his house from Central City. That should not be taken lightly.

The speedster moved closer to him, gripping the white tank top tightly. Not another word was spoken, so long that Jaime wondered if Bart had fallen asleep. The hand gripping his tank top flexed, the mess of red hair shifting. A shaky breath escaped Bart and Jaime worried on his bottom lip.   
“I… I was back in the future. You were there, not as Blue Beetle… like the bad one there. You were, you. Jaime Reyes. But Blue Beetle, the bad one. He had you and…” Bart let out a shaky sob. “He was torturing you. I couldn’t do anything but watch, Black was holding me back. You were screaming and…”

Jaime clutched Bart tighter, “Hey, it’s okay cariño. We stopped them remember?”

“Yeah, I remember.”

“I’m right here, off mode. It’s not gonna happen ese.”

Despite all this, Bart was still fairly tense in his arms. Minor tremors were running through the speedsters body and, according to Khaji, his heart rate was still faster than normal. Yet Jaime couldn’t think of any other thing to do, there was no way he was going to take advantage of Bart in this state. Instead he used every single comforting motion he learned, mostly from his mother, and held Bart close while rubbing his back. Softly humming a random lullaby his mother used to sing to him. It seemed to work, Bart relaxing in his arms before drifting off. 

There were no more nightmares that night, even if there was an immensely worried superhero speedster looking for his future grandson. But all it took was a text, once he unraveled himself from Bart, letting Flash know that his grandson was with him. Then Jaime let himself drift off as well.

**_*********BATWOLF**********_ **

Once again, Jaime was in his room packing up. While all the more important things were still at the house in Beacon Hills, mainly the ones that made his cover believable, he still needed to bring over some clothes. And, like last time, Bart was in his room lending some ‘help’ in deciding what to bring and what he wasn’t. There was no way he could bring anything his sister or the rest of his family had given him, covers after all, he was considering one of the t-shirts Milagro had gifted him (which was different since it was a t-shirt). This t-shirt was obviously a gag gift, but it made Bart jealous. It had the words “I’m Batman and my bestfriend is Robin” with the Bat’s symbol on it. There was no way he was wearing it around Batman, but he was so wearing it to school.

_ [You are not Batman, Jaime Reyes. That shirt is incorrect] _

“So?” Jaime asked.

“I say no,” Bart replied, once again eating his chicken whizzies.

“I say yes!” Milagro piped up, standing in the doorway.

“Hermana beats cariño,” Jaime agreed, folding the shirt and sticking it in his bag.

“Ha!” Milagro stuck her tongue out at Bart before disappearing down the hall.

“No fair,” Bart muttered, throwing a chicken whizzie into his mouth.

Jaime zipped up his bag before throwing it over his shoulders. Raising an eyebrow at his boyfriend, Jaime snatched the chicken whizzies bag from him before walking out. Like he expected Bart followed him a second later. The two made their way to the zeta tubes before appearing in Mount Justice. Already Cassie was there (but she practically lived there so it wasn’t surprising) with Wonder Woman standing by her side. Only Wonder Woman was in costume, Cassie wearing a purple tank top and some capris. Him and Bart were in their most casual wear, he was literally wearing a random t-shirt he found and Bart was wearing one of Wally’s old Flash t-shirts.

“You ready?” Stiles asked, walking out of the zeta tube with Jason, Dick, and Batman following after.

All of them were packed, their bags over their shoulders. It was kinda disappointing, the summer break being over for them. Now they were back to being a foster family, all except Stiles which was unfair, and living in the same house. Squeezing Bart’s hand gently, Jaime looked over at Batman.

“Everyone know what your mission is?” Batman demanded, too which they answered the affirmative, “Good. Head out.”

Once again, they appeared in the gross bathroom one by one. Jaime came out in the middle this time, Bart following behind him. The two squeezed into the car after Jason brought it by, Stiles sitting in the front this time with Cassie in the back. Dick was too come by tomorrow, instead of joining them today. The explanation made sense too, it would be too suspicious if they all came back at the same time. However Jaime didn’t know how they were going to explain the four of them and Jason hanging out with Dick so much.

“If you complain again I’m hogtying you with my lasso and gagging you with my sock,” Cassie warned Bart, glaring at him.

“Noted,” Bart gulped.

_ [The Wonder Girl is threatening Impulse, remove of her] _

Surprisingly the threat (not Khaji’s, Cassie’s) worked. Bart stayed quiet the entire time. However there were a few times he nearly said something, but remembered at the last moment and practically deflated. In the front Stiles had connected his phone to the stereo and was playing a few songs that Jaime didn’t recognize. They were good though so he couldn’t complain. At least it wasn’t completely silent, which would be worse (in his opinion) then Bart complaining.

“Everyone out,” Jason said, parking the car outside the garage, “Unpack and then you can do whatever you want.”

“Whatever I want?” Stiles repeated, a smirk appearing on his face.

“No.” Jason pointed a finger at Stiles. “Whatever you’re thinking no.”

“You’re no fun.”

Deciding it was best not to listen to the end of this conversation (if Jason was saying no it had to be pretty bad), Jaime took Bart’s hand and gently pulled him into the house and up the stairs. They broke apart at their rooms, Jaime entering his. His room was exactly how he left it, bed made, curtains closed, posters on the wall. There were a few pictures on his bedside table, mostly of himself with Bart or one of the other ‘foster kids’ and Stiles. None of them had his family, as it would blow his cover. Well, Milagro was okay (he could just explain that they had been separated in the system) but any other pictures would be suspicious.

_ [Someone has been in your room Jaime Reyes] _

“It was probably Jason or Batman ese,” Jaime replied, opening his bag and drawers, “Nothing to be worried about.”

Grabbing the folded shirts (no thanks to Bart) Jaime stuck them into the drawer. A moment later there was a rush of wind and, when Jaime turned back around, his bag was gone and all the clothes were put away. Sighing softly he settled a small glare onto Bart, who was grinning happily and laying relaxed on his bed. Rolling his eyes, it was no use fighting about it anymore, Jaime walked over to Bart and flicked his ear.

“Hey!”

“That’s for unpacking  _ my  _ clothes ese,” Jaime hissed.

“Aw, come on!”

_ [The Impulse does not seem sorry] _

“He should be.” Jaime continued the sentence when he noticed the confused look on Bart’s face. “Visiting Scott. Stiles should be visiting Scott right now.”

“Yeah, he alreadyleftIsawhimdriveoff.”

Jaime didn’t even bother decoding Bart’s sentence. Instead he sighed and headed downstairs, noticing Cassie leaving the house on her phone. The only people he could imagine her texting was Allison (Jaime didn’t really like her all that much) or Lydia. Maybe Danny, her gay-friend that would give her actual fashion advice unlike the ones she lives with, but that was really only when she goes shopping.

“What are you two still doing here?” Jason asked, leaning against the wall that separated the kitchen from the living room.

“Trying to get rid of us?” the smirk on Bart’s face reminded Jaime a bit of Wally.

“Yes, now go. Don’t come back until it’s time for dinner.”

“But what if I get hungry before then?”

“Eat a few ants.”

Surprisingly enough, Bart didn’t look disgusted. Instead he actually looked contemplative, but Jason had already disappeared again. Sighing softly Jaime dragged Bart out the door. Before they could get very far, though, they got a call from Stiles. The phone rang loudly, startling Jaime and causing Bart to run from one side of him to the other in shock.

_ ~Lydia’s missing from the hospital. And there’s hunters here~  _ Stiles said over the phone, his voice frantic.

“Calm down hermano, there’s hunters?” That wasn’t in the debriefing.

“Hunters? But they…” Bart looked confused.

_ ~The Argent’s, big ol’ grampa Argent is here and he’s more insane then Kate was. Keep an eye on Bart okay? They wouldn’t hesitate to put a bullet through his head, one that he can’t heal from~  _ Bart flinched by his side, gripping onto his sweatshirt  _ ~Just keep close watch on him, keep him close to your side. Contact Cassie and let her know. We’ll have a meeting tomorrow with Dick and Jason to let them know~ _

“Do you want us to watch out for Lydia? You don’t think she’s… changing do you hermano?”

_ ~I don’t know. But we can’t rule it out. She was bitten by an alpha~ _

“Lydia Martin?” Bart spoke up, “She’s not becoming a werewolf.”

“What?” Jaime looked over at Bart.

_ ~What’s going on?~ _

“She’s not changing into a werewolf,” Bart repeated slower.

“Bart says she’s not changing into a werewolf.”   
“Cause she’s not!”

_ ~Then what is she changing into?~ _

“Spoilers,” Bart replied evenly, crossing his arms.

“That’s not helpful cariño,” Jaime muttered.

_ [The Impulse has changed the timeline already by telling us she isn’t a werewolf. It’s possible the implications of actually telling us would cause a catastrophe] _

“The timeline is already changed by Bart coming back and by us being in Beacon Hills, what would telling us what she is make it worse?” Jaime asked.

_ ~Certain events might happen differently if we know what she is Jaime~  _ Stiles told him over the phone  _ ~But at least now we know that we won’t have to deal with a rampaging werewolf on the full moon. I’ve gotta get back to Scott, pretending to be going to the bathroom only lasts so long~ _

Before Jaime could reply he heard the beep signalling the end of the call. Sighing softly he stuffed it into his back pocket, most likely Cassie would have heard by now. Glancing over at Bart, who was so pale his freckles contrasted darkly with his skin. 

“Hey, it’ll be okay. You aren’t gonna get shot.”   
“Gerard Argent,” Bart muttered softly, squeezing his arm tightly, “He… he is well know in the supernatural and metahuman community. He was so vile and ruthless that even the Reach was scared of him. Often I would overhear them talking about making a scarab especially for him, just to be able to control him and use him too hurt us. Even during the apocalypse he refused to let a single werewolf or supernatural creature survive.”

“Is that?”

“Allison Argent’s grandfather? Yeah… he was scary off mode. I never want to see him on mode…”

“Noted.”

If the Reach was scared of this guy, Jaime knew he had to be careful. They weren’t scared of anyone, of anything. This guy must be scary if they really were scared, scared enough to make him his own scarab. Gently pulling Bart closer, knowing that if he used too much force the younger male would run off without thinking, Jaime continued their trek down the street.

**_*************BATWOLF**************_ **

_ [The Kanima is here Jaime Reyes] _

“What?!” Jaime sat straight up, no longer paying attention to the lacrosse game in front of him (even though Boyd, one of Derek’s betas, is playing).

Next to him, both Bart and Cassie turned to look. A piece of licorice hung out of Bart’s mouth while Cassie had an almost annoyed look on her face. But the confusion was clear on Bart, his head tilted almost comically to the side. Instead of paying attention to them, Jaime looked around the field. Stiles had gone after Derek, they were so gay for each other even Jason (who usually was distracted by one thing or another) had noticed. It was clear that Cassie was trying to set the two up as well.

“Jaime?” Cassie questioned.

“Where?” Jaime hissed, a little quieter this time.

_ [What do you think I am Jaime Reyes? A supernatural tracker?] _

“Carajo Khaji, tell me!”

_ [No need to cuss, in the school] _

“Narrow it down a bit cabrón.”

“Jaime!” the Spanish teacher scolded.

“Of course you would know what that means.”

_ [I’m afraid I cannot narrow it down] _

That would have to do then. Jaime slid between the bleacher seats, instead of blocking people’s view, and slipped between the bars before heading to the school. If the others decided to follow that was their choice, Bart and Cassie would make it faster, but someone would have to maintain an alibi for him in case it got dangerous. Which it probably would as the Kanima is somewhere in the school.

_ [This is stupid Jaime Reyes, you have no backup] _

“I have you and Stiles is inside the school as well,” Jaime pointed out, even as the blue armour began to spread across his body and everything gained a yellow tint.

_ [Your logic is faulty] _

Jaime didn’t even bother replying, checking the doors as he walked through the hall. It was quiet, the creepy kind of quiet. Instead of walking he hovered a bit in the air, knowing through trial and error that werewolves couldn’t hear him when he was flying. He wasn’t sure if it would work with other supernatural creatures, but he was pretty sure that Kanima’s didn’t have as good hearing as werewolves. Oh if Batman was here now, he’d be pissed at Jaime. 

_ [As he should be] _

“Shut up,” Jaime hissed, opening the door to the pool.

“JAIME! WATCH OUT!” Stiles screamed.

Jaime only had enough time to see Stiles treading water, holding up Derek, before his vision was blocked with reptilian eyes. A small, barely noticeable, yelp escaped his lips and he stepped backwards. The Kanima in front of him seemed to sniff his body, smelling him from the bottom up. Jaime was so startled, so scared, that he completely froze up. His breath caught and he clenched his fist.

_ [Suggested tactic: Cut off its head] _

The armour began to change into a sword, his right hand getting covered. In the pool Stiles struggled, looking at Jaime worriedly. In his head Khaji was practically screaming at him to do something. The Kanima suddenly lashed out and Jaime ducked at the last second, feeling the wind from the tail above his head. Rolling to the side Jaime lashed out with the sword hand, but the Kanima flipped over the sword. 

“The water!” Stiles sounded exhausted. “It won’t come into the water!”

However Jaime had to dive away from the pool, before launching himself into the air. Slicing at the Kanima, Jaime wasn’t surprised when it ducked away. The Kanima tail wrapped around his leg, yanking him back down. Once again Jaime sliced at it, the tail this time, but he was thrown against the wall first. Sliding down next to Erica on the ground, dazed and hurt, Jaime briefly wondered why the venom wasn’t affecting him before brushing it off as the armor protecting him. The tail came down near him and Jaime rolled out of the way, bringing the sword up. It sliced the end of the tail, enough to draw some blood but not enough to slice it off. 

Then the Kanima froze, Jaime following its gaze. It was staring at the mirror, cracked from Jaime himself running into it. Seven years of bad luck, would it just make his luck worse considering how bad it already was. A second later the Kanima was gone, fleeing the scene. Jaime stared after it, breathing hard, before looking back at Derek and Stiles, still treading water. 

“A little help?” Stiles asked, even as the armor on Jaime’s body retracted into his body.

“Jaime?” Derek questioned.

_ [Idiot, Derek Hale didn’t know your identity] _

“Oops?” Jaime offered, wondering why Khaji hadn’t chosen before the armor had retracted to remind him, “Hi?”

“Jaime, help,” Stiles repeated.

“Why aren’t you surprised? What am I missing?” Derek demanded.

“Shush.”

“Stiles,” Derek growled.

Rushing to their side, Jaime helped pull Stiles and Derek out of the pool. They both dripped water on the ground, a small puddle of water beginning to form around them. After finding towels, Jaime stood next to Stiles as Derek woke up Erica. The four of them stood next to the pool for a bit, staring at the broken mirror.

“The Kanima ran off after seeing itself in the mirror,” Jaime muttered.

_ [Data collected, recommended use of data is to use it against the Kanima] _

“It doesn’t know what it looks like,” Derek muttered.

“How can it not know what it looks like? Has it ever looked at a mirror?” Erica demanded.

“Just did chica,” Jaime replied, crossing his arms.

“We can’t deal with this now,” Stiles cut in, teeth chattering from the cold air on his wet body, “We need to regroup. As a whole pack.”

“Scott’s not gonna go for it,” Derek growled, rubbing the towel against his head, “He’s against joining the pack.”   
“He’s a maldito idiota,” Jaime muttered.

“No arguments.”

“I’ll convince him,” Stiles said, wrapping the towel tighter around him.

“Easier said than done hermano.”

**_*************BATWOLF**********_ **

_ [This plan will fail] _

“Do you have a better one?” Jaime muttered, wincing at the bright flashing lights of the party.

Somehow the pack had come to an agreement with the four of them and Scott. Then again the superhero group had already been part of Derek’s pack more than the omega Scott’s pack. For some reason Bart, who had given him a look of confusion a few seconds ago, seemed very attached to Derek. It seemed that the speedster was always trying to impress him, even showing off his speed too Derek. In all honesty it was kinda cute and endearing, even if it seemed to annoy Derek some.

“I’m kinda feeling the mode right now,” Bart said, ducking under a kid’s arm and clutching Jaime’s sweatshirt.

“Are you sick? Can you even get sick?” Jaime asked, “You’re sweating a bit cariño.”

“In the future speedsters can get sick, bacteria mutated or something. But we sanitized me before I came back… the smokey thing that you saw when it opened was sanitation. I can’t get sick.”

A small frown crossed Jaime’s face and he met Cassie’s eyes from across the room. It was clear she had heard their conversation, even as she danced a bit sensually with Isaac Lahey, one of Derek’s betas. However it was clear that the youngest of Derek’s betas was listening in on a different conversation. Dodging another body, Jaime was startled by Erica appearing out of nowhere and giving a low growl.   
“He’s here,” She said, grabbing his arm and pulling him after her.

“Ow, ow, ow,” Jaime repeated, holding onto Bart’s (small, why was it so small?) wrist, “I can walk hembra.”

“Not fast enough.”

Him and Bart were shoved into a side room, where Jackson was sat in a chair. Stiles was already inside, looking at the unconscious Jackson. The door shut behind them, muffling the sound of the music outside. Glancing around he noticed that this place didn’t look very sturdy or even secure enough. Inside his head Khaji agreed silently and he gripped Bart’s wrist tighter. 

“Bart, you okay?” Stiles asked, looking at the youngest of their group worriedly.

“Yeah, totally crash.” Bart brushed some sweaty hair out of his face.

That wouldn’t even convince the most oblivious person on the earth, much less the nephew and adopted son of the Best Detective in the World. However Stiles didn’t push it as Isaac, who had joined them with Cassie while Stiles was occupied with Bart, moved closer to Jackson with his claws unsheathed. In his head Khaji was practically screaming at the idioticness of the werewolves in their direct vicinity.

Like a puppet, Jackson’s hand rose and gripped onto Isaac’s wrist before twisting. The two other werewolves jumped back in shock, but Jaime and Stiles paid them no mind. Instead Stiles stepped forward, kneeling down to look Jackson in the eyes. The Kanima released Isaac’s wrist and the young werewolf stepped back to, figuratively, lick his wounds. A small shiver ran down his back at the sight of the half-transformed kanima.

“I think you can hear me, Matt,” Stiles said, not looking concerned at how close he is too the Kanima, “Your pet is trapped and I’m the only one who can free him. Answer my questions.”

“No,” the voice that came out caused Bart to startled and move closer into Jaime’s arms. Not that Jaime blamed him.

_ [I can calculate three hundred and fourty five ways this plan will fail] _

“Good for you,” Jaime muttered.

“I think you will. You see Matt, we have proof for you being at the scene of all four murders and the attempted murder of Kara here,” Stiles replied before lifting his phone, “All the information is primed and ready to send. If you don’t answer my questions I’ll send it straight to every news channel, the police station, and some good hunter and superhero friends of mine. You’ll go down for this.”

There was no answer from Matt through the Kanima. Yet it seemed this was what Stiles was waiting for and he stuffed the phone back in his pocket. Glancing over at Bart, who was leaning against him face pale, Jaime looked back at the Kanima. It’s head was cocked, staring straight at Stiles. 

“Why are you going after these people?” Stiles asked.

“They’re murderers,” the raspy voice that was a combination of both the Kanima and it’s master, “They murdered me.”

“Ah, the usual revenge route. It gets old after a bit.”

“We’re all here.”

Before they can question that statement, the Kanima finishes shifting and leaps at them. The blue armor surrounds Jaime and he covers Bart, feeling the tail try to slash at him. Stiles had pushed the two werewolves out the door, slamming it shut behind them and locking him and Bart inside with the Kanima. But after the initial attack there was a loud slam and a hole was formed in the wall next to the door.

“Bart,” Jaime said, “Can you?”

There was a short burst of speed, before Bart collapsed to the ground in a dead faint. The armor retracting, despite the blood getting sprayed on the plastic cover separating the back from the rest of the party. Flinching Jaime hauled up Bart, feeling his forehead and cursing softly, before pulling them outside. Isaac and Erica were stuck on the other side of the mountain ash barrier with Stiles on the side with Derek. 

“What’s going on?” Stiles asked, looking at Bart.

“Think he can cross?” Jaime questioned, “We need to get him back home. He’s really sick.”

“He should, unless he’s not telling us something.”

“Who knows. We don’t even know if meta’s can cross over.”

Suddenly Cassie appeared, stepping over the mountain ash line like it was nothing. That answered the question in Jaime’s mind and he stepped over with Bart still clutched tightly in his grip. The youngest wheezed softly, clutching the front of Jaime’s shirt. Worry filled Jaime, which grew when a howl pierced the air. All the werewolves were outside except…

“Scott…” Derek breathed before turning on Stiles, “Break the line.”   
“What? No, we’ll lose Matt and Jackson!”

“Scott will die if you don’t!”

“I can go get him,” Cassie offered.

“Break the line,” Derek growled.

Hesitating for two seconds, which was long enough for three more wheezes on Bart’s end, Stiles broke the line reluctantly. Immediately Erica and Isaac crossed the line, Derek running in another direction. A soft sigh escaped Stiles and he pulled out his phone, sending a quick text too Dick and Jason. 

“Go take Bart home,” Stiles told the two of them, “I let Dick know to be ready with medical supplies. I’ll wrap up things here.”

“Be safe hermano,” Jaime offered, even as the armor began to spread across his body, “We don’t know what caused the howl.”

“I will. Now go.”

Glancing once more at Stiles, both Cassie and Jaime flying up into the air with Bart still clinging to Jaime. A few minutes later they landed safely nearby the house, Jaime retracting the armor on him and shifting Bart into a better position. They’d get updated about what happened at the rave later, but right now they had to worry about Bart. He was their priority right now. Sighing softly Jaime opened the door to the house and went inside.

“We’re here!” Cass exclaimed, before blushing softly when she saw Jason and Dick waiting in the living room.

“Put him on the couch, Flash got sick too. We were expecting this,” Dick said.

“What is it?” Jaime demanded.

“Speedster’s version of the flu. He’ll be fine within a few days,” Jason comforted.

“Are you sure?” 

_ [Listen to Red Hood Jaime Reyes. He is truthful] _

Jaime relaxed a little bit, not realizing just how worried and stressed he was until Jason had said something. Sighing softly he ran a hand through Bart’s hair, smiling a little when Bart subconsciously moved closer. Dick returned to the room (when had he left?) with some sort of weird liquidy substance. 

“We’re back,” Stiles called from the entryway, “Derek and Scott were exposed to vaporized wolfsbane.”

“Deaton is helping heal them,” Cassie added, entering into the living room and tossing her jacket onto the armchair, “Or whatever it’s called for werewolves.”

“How’s Bart?”

“He’ll make it,” Dick said, dripping the liquidy substance into Bart’s mouth, “Wally is the only one who hasn’t gotten sick yet but we expect for it to happen soon. Iris is looking after Flash and Kid.”

“He’ll be okay though right?”

“Dick just said he would be,” Jason replied.

Jaime looked away from them and back down at Bart. For the first time since this morning (how could Jaime have been so blind not to notice that he was sick?) Bart was looking better. Gently sponging at the sweat with a washcloth (which Dick had brought in with the medicine), Jaime silently listened in on their conversation. Nothing of much importance, just chatting about the mission. Basically a debrief. Zoning out again, Jaime continued to sponge Bart’s forehead.

**_***************BATWOLF**********_ **

Jaime decided he doesn’t like the kanima venom. With Bart still healing from his speedster sickness, they were down a person. Jason was inside somewhere with Stiles and Cassie was busy with Dick trying to find Peter Hale (who had been revived much to Jaime’s horror). Even Khaji was quiet, though Jaime wasn’t one hundred percent certain that the scarab hadn’t been affected by the venom as well. Growling softly, Jaime tried to force his body to work but there wasn’t even a twitch of his muscles.

“What are you Stiles?” Jaime hadn’t even noticed that Matt, Stiles, and Scott had returned to the main area, “What do you turn into?”

“The abominable snowman, but it’s more of a seasonal thing,” Stiles quipped back.

Anger filled Matt’s face and Jaime feared for his life. Even if it was a bat kid he was threatening (which was a death wish in itself) they didn’t know a lot about Kanima’s. What they knew was very little and all terrifying, nothing about how to get rid of them. Even with all the information Lydia got them (and her finally learning about there being werewolves and all) there’s not much they can do. They had to play is safe and Jaime isn’t sure that counts as being safe. Antagonizing the person controlling the Kanima…

Just as he suspected, Jackson as the Kanima dropped from the ceiling and sliced at Stiles with his tail. The Bat dropped like a sack of potatoes and landed right on top of a paralyzed Derek. Wincing slightly, Jaime chose to ignore exactly how bad that looked. If they didn’t end up together he’d be surprised. But then again, the two were so oblivious, they might not actually end up together without Cassie playing cupid.

“Bitch,” Stiles groaned, trying to move away from Derek who was growling deeply, Jaime already knew it wouldn’t work.

_ [Jaime Reyes you must move] _

“Good to have you back,” Jaime muttered softly, avoiding attention.

_ [MOVE JAIME REYES!] _

“I can’t exactly move, paralyzed remember?”

_ [I calculate a 95% chance of death if you do not move] _

“And the other 5%?”

_ [Terrible life threatening injuries that might permanently disable you Jaime Reyes] _

“Fun…”

“You’d make a cute couple,” Matt said, referring to Stiles and Derek.

_ [Move, while he is distracted] _

Once again Jaime tried to move, only a slight twitch of his finger instead of moving his hand happened. Sighing softly he focused harder. This time he moved most of his hand, it twitching. It took two more tries for him to fully move, Khaji bugging him a lot too move quicker. Eventually Jaime started to get up, but a foot on his back forced him back down again. Air whooshed out of his lungs as he was forced down.

“Stay,” Matt ordered, the Kanima’s foot firmly on his back with its tail flicking threateningly at his face, “What do you turn into Jaime? A chupacabra?”

“A beetle,” Jaime replied, the armour forming around his body at a slower rate than normal but still fast enough to keep the Kanima from reacting fast enough.

It was like the armour helped dispel the rest of the venom out of his body as now he could move. Swiping his leg out, he knocked over Matt before flipping and knocking the Kanima off his back. A sword appeared on his hand and he swiped out at the Kanima before leading it away from the group. 

A gunshot rang throughout the department. Silently hoping it was one of the werewolves and not Stiles, Jaime made his way throughout the office. He had to get too Jason, if he could get him out then they might have a chance. If only he could communicate with Cassie and Dick, but his phone was broken (thanks Matt) and all the phones in the building were cut. 

_ [Release the Red Hood]  _ Khaji said  _ [We need him] _

“What do you think I’m doing? I’m heading there right now,” Jaime muttered.

It seemed that everyone was in the holding area, Scott on the ground with Mrs. McCall (when had she come?) and Jason in a holding cell. Honestly Jason just looked bored, like he had been through this before. And, if he was remembering right, Jason had been locked in Arkham before Red Robin had broken him out. This was before Stiles had come around of course, Jaime remembered Nightwing and Batman blowing up at Red Robin in front of the team about letting him out. Sighing softly Jaime shook off his thought process and crept inside. Around this point Matt pulled up his shirt, showing the Kanima like scales creeping up his torso.

_ [The only way to keep that from spreading is death] _

“Anything else?” Jaime muttered.

_ [Severing the head?] _

“That still ends in death…”

Jaime crouched in an alcove as the lights went out. The back up lights came online, casting an eerie red glow around. Sirens began to wail and Jaime winced, until the scarab filtered out the noise. Sighing softly in relief, Jaime ducked again once at the sound of automatic weapons (aka guns) firing. A grenade went off, smoke flowing out of the room. Then Scott came out, Jackson following. Waiting for a little while, just too make sure they were a distance away, before he entered the room. Melissa was in the cell, Jason starting to pick the lock already.

“Get Melissa out Blue.” Jason didn’t look up, having to pick with the hand that was trapped by the cuff as both hands were cuffed.

“Just dislocate your thumb,” Jaime replied, “Step back señora.” 

“I need that thumb.”

Melissa stood back, pressing herself firmly against the back wall. Raising his fist, a blaster shot the lock and it broke. Rushing forward, he opened the door before heading over to Jason. Before he could help the cuffs opened and Jason stood up, rubbing his wrists.

“Bastard put them as tight as possible,” Jason grumbled.

“Jason!” Melissa exclaimed.

“I need to go help the others, get her out of here ese,” Jaime said.

“Don’t order me around.”   
“Wow, Superboy much?”

Before Jaime can leave everyone seems to return. Melissa rushed back inside the cell and closed the door, hiding in the back. Then Matt came in, hitting Jason upside the head with a pistol. The Red Hood collapsed to the ground, but Jaime can see that he’s just waiting for a time to strike. It was probably the best idea at the moment, leave Matt underestimating them. Then Derek headed inside, wolfed out.

“Where?” Jaime started, before seeing the Kanima appear out of nowhere knocking down Derek and scaring Melissa.

Before Jaime could do anything, Scott leapt up from the ground (where he had been pretending to be injured) and yanked the Kanima off of the cell wall. Together, Jaime and Derek begin to attack the Kanima. A horrified sound distracted him long enough too get him thrown into a wall. Groaning softly Jaime lifted his arm, the sonic blaster emitting at the Kanima. But it shakes it off and runs away, Jaime lowering his arm and succumbing to unconsciousness.

**_*********BATWOLF*********_ **

“Where’s Stiles?” Bruce Wayne demanded.

It was after the lacrosse game, the one where everything went wrong. Stiles was missing, after he had played (against his will but Coach was very demanding when he wanted to be) and helped them win. No one knew where he was and he wasn’t getting any of their transmissions. Even Cassie couldn’t find him and Bart was still out of commission.

“We don’t know,” Jason sounded almost defeated, his hands limp on his knees.

“Everyone is so distracted by Jackson’s death,” Dick continued, looking at his adoptive father, “No one really noticed that the son of a billionaire was missing.”

“Get him back,” Bruce demanded.

_ [Likelihood of survival is diminishing by the minute] _

“Not helping ese,” Jaime growled, sitting next to his benched boyfriend.

“What?” Bart questioned, looking over at him.

“We have everyone we can looking for him,” Jason tried.

“I’m sending Tim,” Bruce decided, pulling out his phone.

At this point Dick rose to his feet, gently taking the phone out of Bruce’s hand. It was a testament to just how worried he was that he hadn’t taken it back. The billionaire collapsed onto the couch, head in his hands. Sighing softly Jaime glanced over at the two brothers of Stiles, both of whom looked slightly lost.

“We can’t just sit here,” Jason finally said, “Shadow Fox can take care of himself. We have to deal with the Kanima.”

“What about Stiles?” Cassie demanded.   
“Like Jay said,” Dick added, resting a hand on Jason’s shoulder as he stood behind the younger male, “Stiles can take care of himself.”

“He’d be back already if he could be,” Bruce said, clenching his fists tightly.

“There’s a reason he isn’t then,” Jaime cut in, “We have to trust him.”

No one looked happy with it, but honestly Jaime wasn’t either. But there was a plan and they needed to stick to it. The door opened barely a minute later, just as they were reviewing the plan, and a battered and bruised Stiles walked in. Immediately everyone was on their feet, except Bart (grudgingly), and by his side. Unsurprisingly Bruce was there first.

“Uncle Bruce?” Stiles sounded shocked, not even reacting when Bruce put a hand on his cheek.

_ [I can detect no less than fifteen injuries on Shadow Fox’s body] _

“You’re hurt,” Bruce said, brushing his thumb against his nephew’s cheek.

“It’s nothing.” Stiles batted his uncle’s hands away, “What’s the plan?”   
“You’re benched. No more fighting.”   
“WHAT?! I-”

“No arguing. Room, now.”

Watching silently, Jaime followed Stiles as he angrily stormed to his room. The group stayed silent, even Bart kept his mouth shut. No one knew what to say. Eventually Dick got up, heading to Stiles’ room. Jaime’s phone buzzed and he pulled it out of his pocket.

“Mierda,” Jaime cursed, “We need to go.”   
“What? Why?” Cassie demanded.

“Jackson isn’t dead. He’s changing.”

“Get ready, we need to go,” Jason ordered.

It was barely a few minutes later when they show up in the warehouse. They were the first ones there, Jaime the only one not in his suit. Even Jason and Dick are dressed up, in their respected costumes (Jason even had his helmet on) standing off to the side. It felt weird, not having Stiles or Bart by their sides. Not even the infamous Nightwing or Red Hood helped. The four of them could communicate without any telepathy or talking, they knew each other's strong points and their weak points. An SUV stopped outside and Chris Argent, Isaac, and Scott got out pulling a body bagged Jackson with them. Derek followed a moment later, full werewolf. 

“Where’s Peter and Lydia?” Scott demanded.

Derek ignored him, angering the two teen superheroes. If there were more people supposed to be there they had to wait. No rash decisions and this would count.

_ [There is another person here Jaime Reyes. I believe you call him Peter Hale] _

“Then where is Lydia?” Jaime whispered too Khaji, low enough that not even the werewolves could hear him.

_ [Not here] _

“Great.”

In front of him Derek began to unzip the bag. Khaji protested vehemently in his head, which Jaime silently agreed with. They didn’t know enough about the cocoon, or Jackson’s transformation, in general. What if this just made it worse. The risk was too great. Stepping forward silently, knowing that he could get his armour covering him within seconds, Jaime went to stop him.

“We promised to save him!” Scott exclaimed.   
“It’s too late for that,” Derek replied, unsheathing his claws.

But once the bag was unzipped, the cocoon was gone. Frowning slightly, Jaime looked back towards where the other three stood (Cassie frowning as well). Then he returned his gaze to the others, Scott and Isaac looking shocked.

“The wound, the death, it was all a trick from Gerard. A master plan to make Jackson stronger,” Derek explained, looking up at them.

“If Jackson was a dog, he would turn rabid, my father would just put him down,” Chris disagreed.

“You’re right,” Gerard agreed, walking in.

Great, now he couldn’t risk putting his armour on at a moment's notice. Behind him Cassie tensed, crossing her arms over her chest to hide the symbol. While it wouldn’t do much, at least then it would be more difficult for Gerard to figure her out. Why were covert missions so difficult? Then again, if he remembered right, the first team always blew things up. At least they were doing better than that. Jaime moved closer, standing besides Derek.

Which turned out to be a bad thing, as when Derek moved to stab Jackson the Kanima moved faster. Stabbing Derek in the chest and before Jaime could even think of letting Khaji cover him with armour, there was a tail in his gut. Someone screamed his name, Cassie probably, even as the tail forced itself deeper. A cough escaped him.

_ [Do not go into shock Jaime Reyes]  _ Khaji ordered him

Too late, his eyes flickered and he could feel his body shutting down. Was he bleeding? He felt like he was bleeding. Why was he so cold? All he could see was the Kanima in front of him, standing up. The tail was firmly inside of his stomach and Jaime briefly wondered if the paralysis he was feeling was from shock or the venom. Then he was thrown across the room, the tail tearing out of his body harshly. 

Darkness threatened his vision, even as he put a hand over his stomach. Drawing it black there was a thick red liquid covering his hands, sliding between his fingers. Blood, he was bleeding. It was disappointing too, he liked this shirt. Blinking slowly he slid his fingers together again.

_ [Put pressure on your wound Jaime Reyes]  _ Did Khaji sound concerned?  _ [Listen to me! Put pressure on your wound!] _

Numbly he listened to the directions, his vision fading in and it. Almost like when his phone was trying to focus on something, blurry then not. Darkness crept in and he was vaguely aware of a fight happening around him. Gunshots, was that Jason or Argent? Maybe it was both. 

_ [Focus Jaime Reyes, do not go to sleep] _

“’M tiered Khaji,” Jaime muttered, body sagging against the wall, “Déjame dormir.”

_ [I will not let you sleep. There is over a fifty percent chance that you will not wake up if you close your eyes] _

Something was happening, but Jaime couldn’t focus. Was that Derek, wolfed out, about to bite Gerard? Why would he… 

_ Blink _

A car, slamming through the front. Lights blinding Jaime. A soft groan escaped him but someone, Cassie? They were blonde, shushed him gently. They were pressing painfully on his stomach. A soft cry escaped him and he tried to push them away weakly with his blood stained hands. Feet scrapped loosely at the floor, even as he tried to gain purchase. Whoever it was though was stronger than him, which didn’t really narrow it down to anyone except it not being Bart (Bart was the weakest of them all), keeping him down against the ground and putting pressure on the wound in his gut.

“Stay down Jaime, it’s bad,” Cassie whispered, at least he thought it was Cassie, everything was blurry and the darkness was creeping into his vision again.

_ Blink _

_ [Wake up Jaime Reyes] _

A roar helped bring him back, eyes parting slowly. It felt like his eyelids had been glued together, making it difficult to part them. The blonde, Cassie?, was still hunched over him with her hand pushed hard against his gut. A soft whine escaped him and he tried to push away again.

“You awake Jaime?” Cassie asked, turning away from the sight of the werewolf with icy blue eyes standing in front of the lights of a car.

“Fatigado,” Jaime hadn’t realized he was speaking in spanish.

“I’m assuming that means you’re tired. Don’t fall asleep.”

Eyes felt heavy and Jaime just wanted to close his eyes. The pressure on his abdomen increased and there was a sharp cry of pain, did it come from him? His eyes flew open and a few tears squeezed out, his hands scraping at the hands pressing against his stomach. Feet scrabbled at the floor beneath him.

“Keep him still Cassie,” someone called over.

“I’m trying. He needs a hospital,” Cassie replied.

“How are we going to explain it?” someone else asked, “Yes nurse, he got stabbed in the stomach with a giant lizard. I think you’ll find some scales inside the stab wound. Yes, I said giant lizard.”

_ Blink _

White light, right in his eyes. A soft whine escaped his throat and a blurry figure appeared over his head. His hands reached up to the face, but another hand gripped it. The darkness was still on the edges of his vision and Khaji was quiet. It was all quiet, his whole body numb.

“He’s awake,” the voice sounded like it was going through water, very thick and very noise muffling water.

“Jaime, how you doing back there?” someone asked.

The question didn’t sink in. 

_ Blink _

**_*********BATWOLF*******_ **

The senses returned slowly. Touch came first, the scratchy blankets beneath him and the tightness around his abdomen. Bandages wound around his torso, tighter than he would normally do it. Underneath the bandages itched but his body felt too heavy for him to control. Cold air brushing against his face, but warmth underneath the blankets. Then came smell. What he expected was the sanitary and bleach smell of the hospital. Instead he got the smokey smell of the old Stilinski househeld, the smell of the food in the kitchen that Jason made, and the smell of peppermints (probably to cover up the underlying smell of blood and antiseptics) wafting through the air. Then came taste, which was kinda gross. Cotton bally feeling in his mouth, the gross morning breath feeling. Slimmy and covering his teeth, coating his tongue. It was vile and he desperately wished for water. Next was hearing, whispering surrounding him. The soft snoring of Bart, probably in a chair. Curtains fluttering, rustling in a silent wind. Was his window open? And a gentle humming, coming from downstairs, with someone singing loudly to the same beat of the humming. Blinking, forcing his eyes open, his sight returned slowly. The blurriness slowly faded and he noticed Bart in the chair besides him, sleeping with bags under his eyes. Just as he thought, there was a few inches of his window opened with a small breeze ruffling the curtains. He was in his room, what had happened?

“Bart,” Jaime croaked, seeing no one else in the room, “Bart.”

The speedster jerked awake, flailing before falling off the bed. Jaime couldn’t do anything but watch, even as the messy red head of Bart peeked back over his bed. There was a face splitting grin on his face, eyes twinkling brightly. Tiredly returning the smile, Jaime moved slightly and felt a sharp twinge in his side. A sharp exhale escaped his lips and he gritted his teeth.

“How long?” Jaime croaked, swallowing deeply when his voice rasped and broke.

“I’ll get you some water,” Bart suddenly disappeared before reappearing with a plastic cup filled with ice chunks.

Gently holding him up, which caused a burning pain to surround his stomach where he knew there were stitches, Jaime let Bart put an ice chip between his lips. Taking it into his mouth, Jaime sucked on it gently. The ice chip melted, the small bits of water helping take the bitter taste out of his mouth. Bart continued to feed him ice chips, until there were no more.

“You’ve been out for a little over two days, nearly three,” Bart told him.

“Anything else?”

“Jackson moved to London, he’s a werewolf now. Stiles is grounded since he left anyways and brought Lydia with him, even though he kinda saved everyone’s life. Mrs. McCall treated you, don’t pull your stitches. And you have a bunch of homework to catch up on as well. Ohandthere’skindasortaanalphapacktodealwiththatwantsDerek,” Bart finished in a rush.

“Slow down cariño.”

“There’s an alpha pack in town. When Dick brought Isaac and Derek back to the Hale House there was the mark of an Alpha Pack. Dick took a picture, sent it to Batsy. We need to tread lightly according to Batman.” Bart played with his hand and fingers gently. 

“Where are the others ese?”

“Jason is making dinner, you’re on a strict diet though of like really soft foods and such for a bit cause yeah. Dick is arguing with Derek about bringing Scott into the loop. Cassie is out shopping with Allison and Lydia. Stiles is hanging out with Scott and Isaac.”

_ [The injuries you sustained are healing. Recommended tactic: Rest] _

“I’m resting.”

For once Bart didn’t respond, his brows drawn together as he occupied himself with Jaime’s fingers. It was clear to Jaime that Bart had been worried about him and Jaime didn’t really enjoy knowing that. Bart had still been recuperating from the speedster flu thing when he had gotten injured. Gripping Bart’s hand tightly, just to remind that he’s there and okay, Jaime leaned back against the pillows.

“You scared me,” Bart whispered.

“Bart, cariño.”

“When they came back, you were bleeding everywhere. Cassie said you lost a lot of blood, her hands were stained with it. Th-they kicked me out of the room. I wasn’t- they weren’t… You were so pale,” Bart choked on his words and gripped Jaime’s hand even tighter, “You looked dead. If it weren’t for your breathing I would’ve…”

“It’s okay Bart, está bien. I’m still here, I’m right here cariño.”

Someone cleared their throat in the doorway and they both turned to look. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Bart wipe away the tears quickly. Jason leaned against the doorway, the white streak in his hair covering his eyes. It was a miracle that Jason looked constantly casual and unfazed. Jaime would not be the same, especially after the last few days. If he was in Jason’s position…

“Good to see you up Jaime, ‘fraid you can’t have the dinner though. Dick’s picking you up Jamba Juice on his way back though. You’re gonna be living off of smoothies for the next few weeks,” Jason said.

“How bad was it?” Jaime asked.

There was a minor glance Bart’s way, before Jason answered. “Pretty bad. The worst is over though. Once the Kanima venom was flushed out you started healing normally again. Think the scarab helped a bit.”

_ [They were going to bite you if you didn’t start healing. That is not allowed. Your vital organs were not hit, thankfully, and the minor ones are mostly healed. Muscles and nerves are healing, as well as your skin. No infections] _

“They were considering giving me the bite?” Jaime asked.

Jason winced, “Sometimes I hate that scarab. We wouldn’t have allowed it, besides your armour covered you, giving Cassie a heart attack, and Scott practically attacked Derek for even suggesting it.”

_ [It was funny] _

“Mierda…”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: I just really wanted to write Khaji Da, aka the scarab. So walla, Jaime POV was born. For the most part I’ll stick with Stiles, as he is my baby and it is a Stiles-centric story, but I might switch to Jaime for a chapter. Don’t expect it too much and the next chapter is one hundred percent Stiles.
> 
> Stiles: Fun, internal thoughts out for everyone to read.
> 
> Review Request Here → I am now part of the Voltron fandom and Shiro is my baby.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: HI CHANA!!! *waves*
> 
> Stiles: It’s back to my POV according to the author.
> 
> Me: Yep, strap in everyone this is gonna be ride. Season 3A
> 
> Disclaimer Here → Not mine, just the idea is, but the character’s aren’t
> 
> 3rd Person POV

 

“Jason has a few tattoo’s,” Stiles said, sitting in the jeep with Scott outside the tattoo parlor, “However his all have a specific meaning and he is of age to get a tattoo. You’re only sixteen.”

“So are you,” Scott replied, glowering.

“Do you even know what you want?”

Stiles wasn’t even sure exactly why they were here. All he knew was that immediately after the pack meeting that day they went straight to the tattoo parlor. No explanation, nothing. It had been around an hour since they parked outside the front and still Stiles didn’t know why exactly they were here (except that Scott wanted a tattoo). Why he wanted a tattoo hadn’t exactly been explained yet. All he had gotten was that it had meaning, not the tattoo itself but getting a tattoo. No idea as to the tattoo design itself, that he had seen it yet.

Without an explanation Scott got out of the car, leaving Stiles to follow. Sighing softly he turned off the car and headed inside as well. Now that he was here Stiles looked around the premade designs, knowing already that Scott had his drawn out. The tattoo artist had his needle primed and ready, Scott in the chair as he showed the design. Two lines of varying length, to go around his bicep. It was weird.

“Hey.” Stiles found one of the kanima “You should get this.”

“Stiles,” Scott sighed in an almost exasperated tone.

“Too soon?”

Only response was a raised eyebrow. Behind him the tattoo artist began to go into the history of the tattoo. However Stiles already knew all of this, one of his friends was a time traveler (from the future) where they had basically fallen back in old ways. Everyone had began a tally of the odd marks Bart would draw on himself (not always in the same place) in permanent marker with a far away look in his eyes. Once he had managed to convince Jaime, after he was better, to let him doodle on the back. The resulting drawing was nothing less than amazing. In black permanent marker Bart had drawn a giant diamond in the center, an X in the middle making four other smaller diamonds inside the giant diamond, four triangles on the flat sides of the giant diamond. Then four straight lines came out of the points of the giant diamond, skinny X’s a little over halfway up the lines. After sneaking a picture and googling it on the internet, Stiles realized it was one of the Norse runes for protection. It was a little later that Stiles found out that Bart had one on his back, looking almost like a brand, of a more complex Norse Rune when he had first come back to the future. That one had healed within a week of Bart being there, according to Dick.

Realizing he had zoned out (it wasn’t his fault he had run out of Adderall), Stiles drew himself back to reality. In front of him was a template of a tribal fox, looking to be lying down with it’s tail curled in front of it. Gently taking it from its spot, Stiles studied it. While it wasn’t his fox, which was silver and curled into a backwards C, he could always draw Shadow Foxes logo and have the tattoo artist do it. As far as he knew all of the Bat Family had a tattoo signifying their alter-egos (all except Bruce and Alfred). Dick had one on his inner thigh (the concept of privacy or modesty was lost on him) near his crotch. It was of the nightwing symbol in the same nightwing blue, surrounded by what looked to be watercolor black feathers near the wings of the symbol with splattering of black paint around and on it.. Kinda cool honestly. Tim’s was on the soft spot of his side above his right hip. It was a dark red and the spot that didn’t have any ink created the Red Robin symbol instead of the ink itself. Out of all of his brother’s he had to admit that Tim’s was the most creative. He was the only one that had graduated Robin (even if Bruce would deny that Robin wasn’t his anymore) and didn’t have a tattoo to show it. That was almost a rite of passage, much like what the tattoo artist was telling Scott.

“Hey, you’re good at what you do right?” Stiles asked.

“Best in Beacon Hills County,” the man boasted.

“So you can do any design?”

“Why? You got a challenge for me?” 

Quickly finding a pen and paper, Stiles sketched out what he wanted. His symbol, the silver fox in a backwards C, with what looked to be smoky darkness surrounding it. Scott got his tattoo wrapped up and the man took the paper, nodding impressed at it. Then the man set the paper aside and looked over at Stiles.

“Well, where do you want it?” the man asked.

Thinking for a few minutes; Jason had his on his lower back, Dick inner thigh, and Tim on his side, Stiles eventually lifted up his right sleeve. The man took it for what it was and began to swab at his bicep. It was the opposite side of where Scott got his tattoo and the same side that all of his brothers got their tattoos. The needle pierced his skin and Stiles hissed slightly, but didn’t flinch. There had been worse injuries in his lifetime. A few hours later the tattoo was done and Stiles gave the man his money and a tip before heading back out.   
“What are your brothers gonna think?” Scott asked.

“Well, seeing as Tim is only seventeen and got his tattoo when he was younger than me he can’t say anything. Jason was younger than Tim and Dick got his at sixteen… it’d be hypocritical. If they say anything I have blackmail.” Stiles put on a random sweatshirt he had (that Scott said smelled like Derek) anyways, “Not like there’s much to do anyways.”

“It burns,” Scott muttered, squirming a little, “I know they’re supposed to but this much?”

“Dude stop picking at the bandages.”

“It burns!”

Before Stiles could stop him, stupid werewolf speed, the bandages were torn off. Hands hanging in the air, due to the shock most likely, Stiles watched as the tattoo on Scott’s body faded quickly. Even the red irritation was gone a few moments later, until there was nothing but smooth skin. Immediately a quip came to mind, which he said aloud.

“Good, I hated that thing.”

“Stiles!”

**_**************BATWOLF***********_ **

Leaping down from the ceiling, Stiles sent his whip at the first alpha he saw. The mask on his face covered his identity and the recent invention from Tim kept them from using his scent to ID him (due to the influx of villains that had super smell) that the League helped him make. It was a good thing too as it seemed that all the werewolves were surprised by his sudden appearance (as well as those of Bart and Cassie (both using the scent dampener) and Jaime (Khaji keeping his scent  from getting picked up) coming from different directions). Deucalion growled deeply and one of the Alpha’s (he honestly didn’t care) charged at him. Flipping out of the way Stiles wrapped the whip around the Alpha’s leg, yanking it back.

“Shadow! Behind you!” Cassie called, even as she helped Derek fight the female Alpha (Kali?).

Twisting down and around, Stiles pulled the whip taut and let the momentum of the other werewolf trip him up and crash into the alpha. The two stumbled and fell to the ground, Stiles flicking his wrist letting the whip untangle from the ankle of the first Alpha. His whip hung ready in his hand, on the ground around him like a snake. 

“One to your left hermano!” Jaime called from the roof, blasting sonic waves at any alpha looking to get too close.

Stiles dove out of the way, twisting in mid-air and sending the whip at the alpha. Due to the infusion of wolfsbane, the scar on the alpha’s cheek would be there permanently. Tucking and rolling, Stiles landed on his feet before sending a few wolfsbane infused batarangs (nothing fox like seemed to work) at the alpha’s ankle. Both were picked out of the air, but the alpha dropped them a second later due to the weakening aspects of the wolfsbane. Once they hit the floor they explode, sending the wolfsbane gas into the air around the alpha.

“Igotthis!” Bart exclaimed, rushing past him and keeping the gas around the single alpha with a whirlwind.

Leaving it to Bart, Stiles turned around and flicked his whip. They would get overwhelmed soon, the twin alpha’s creating one giant alpha and Kali managing to bring Cassie down (only to be brought down herself by Derek for a few seconds). If only Jason and Dick could be here, but they had to keep their alibi. Twisting around, Stiles flicked his wrist and sent his whip between Derek’s legs and wrapped it around Kali’s ankle. He then tugged at the same time Cassie kicked her from behind and Derek knocked her on her head. The female alpha fell on her butt hard, the air whooshing out of her. Stiles untangled his whip again and felt himself get grabbed.

Twisting in the arms, feeling the claws dig into the kevlar of his suit, Stiles threw his head back. There was a satisfying crunch, but the grip did not release him. Reaching into his utility belt, Stiles grabbed hold of a wolfsbane knife and jammed it in the leg of his captor. He was released and instead of falling in a heap on the ground he crouched and swung out his leg. The alpha collapsed to the ground Stiles nearly lashing out when a golden lasso wrapped around the alpha’s body and hogtied him.

“Don’t you need your weapon Wonder Girl?” Stiles questioned.

“I can fight without my weapons Shadow Fox, can you?” Cassie demanded.   
“Is that a challenge?” Cassie winked. “I accept.”

Returning his whip to his belt, Stiles crouched down as Cassie returned to the fray. Soon enough another Alpha came to attack him and, used to fighting against superpowered people, Stiles crouched down even more and used the alpha’s momentum to throw him across the room. Then he, as the alpha came back at him, dropped down on one knee and spun with the other leg out to trip him up. As the alpha fell Stiles stomped on his face with his booted foot. 

“One to zero!” Stiles called up.

“Hey! No fair.” Cassie dodged an attack from one of the other alpha’s, the one that Stiles knocked into the other alpha earlier.

“You’re the one with superpowers.”

“Ilikecompetitions.” Bart suddenly appeared by his side.

“You don’t count Impulse,” Cassie told him, “No weapons.”

“Does that mean Blue isn’t a part either? His superpower is weapons.”

“I think I should be offended,” Bart said, landing next to them and sending the sonic blaster in Kali’s way.

“Technically he’s not,” Stiles agreed, ducking a punch before kicking the guy in the groin.   
“CanIborrowyourwhipthen? Thanks!” 

His whip was no longer on his hip. Used to this (Bart enjoyed using it too wrap around people’s legs and trip them up) Stiles just sighed and continued to dodge and retaliate to the alpha’s. It all came to a stand still when an arrow split the alpha twins apart. Flashes light up the abandoned motel and Stiles switched his domino mask to a different setting before regrouping with the others. Bart skidded to a stop next to Jaime, the whip in his hands, and Cassie landed between Isaac and Derek. 

Scott and Derek attack Ennis (at least that’s the name they used) at the same time. Isaac and Cassie go after Ethan while Jaime and Bart double team Aiden. That left Stiles attacking Kali, the two evenly matched but Stiles had more training with the League members and The Team. They traded blows, both playing dirty. Stiles eventually got a good kick in the face and she stumbled back.

There was a howl of pain and Stiles’ attention was diverted. Turning he saw Derek and Ennis locked in a fight, Scott swiping at the tendons in the ankle. A cry of warning had fallen from his lips too late, Ennis grabbing onto Derek and pulling him over the edge. There had been a loud crash and Stiles rushed to the edge, seeing the broken and bloody forms of the two on the escalator below.

**_*************BATWOLF**********_ **

“I’ve seen worse,” Scott commented, getting off of the bus.

Following his friend’s gaze, Stiles narrowed his eyes at the motel in front of him. The other two male teen superheroes got off behind him, moving to look at the hotel. It was pretty bad, the worst he had seen for any living conditions. Even compared to Gotham, not that he had seen all the places that people lived in at Gotham. If he asked he was sure Jason could name a few.

“Where have you ever seen worse?” Stiles demanded.

“In the future,” Bart whispered to himself, just barely loud enough for Stiles to pick up and definitely too quiet for Scott to pick up (given that he was already over where the girls (that tagged along) were standing.

Apparently Jaime had heard him, reaching over and squeezing his hand. Frowning slightly Stiles grabbed the key handed to him, even as Coach gave him and Scott a room together. As guessed, Boyd and Isaac shared a room. Bart and Jaime staying in a room between them. Allison, Lydia, and Cassie ended up sharing a room in another hall. Glancing over at Bart and Jaime as Coach Finstock laid the ground rules (both of them are underage they shouldn’t even be thinking about that yet), Stiles followed Scott to their room. Dropping his bag on the chair, Stiles flopped down on the bed that (he subconsciously checked) had the best exit points in an emergency. Most people wouldn’t notice that kind of thing but Stiles wasn’t most people.

“I’ve got eight people that could possibly be the murderer,” Stiles informed Scott, having already told his suspicions to the rest of his family (the three other teenagers have become as much of his family as the bats), “Adrian Harris, he might be missing but it doesn’t mean he’s dead.” He learned that a lot in Gotham, the hard way. “Cora Hale. We know nothing about her dude. She literally appeared out of nowhere and then the killings happened. Yes, she’s Derek’s sister but what else do we know? Dr. Deaton, doesn’t it seem suspicious of him that he knows everything? Like seriously, he’s basically Obi Wan and I never really trusted Obi. Lydia, she’s been controlled before and didn’t even know it. What if she’s being controlled now? Mrs. Morrell, just creepy. And she’s already on the bad side. Ms. Blake, she just appeared out of nowhere and Derek already trusts her. Kinda weird mind-controlly thing. Lastly Aiden and Ethan, just don’t like ‘em.”

“What if it’s just some kid at school, like Jared? We didn’t even think of Matt as an option and he turned out to be the Kanima,” Scott suggested, sitting up in bed.

“Jared has too much of a gag reflex. There’d be vomit with every dead body if that was the case.”

Frowning slightly at the silence greeting him, Stiles twisted over to face Scott. The werewolf was staring at the ceiling seemingly lost in thought. Sighing softly Stiles stretched and got to his feet nimbly, grabbing his wallet and room keys. As long as he was away from home he was gonna splurge on some unhealthy food. Despite popular belief, Jason did care about eating healthy. Apparently it helped him when it came to beating up bad guys, something about less cramps and better movement. While he was sure there was some truth to it, Stiles missed his greasy food and the sweet chocolate and peanut butter mix of his Reeses. Not to mention the amazing taste of Dr. Pepper and his favorite soft drink, Coca Cola. Splurging occasionally wouldn’t hurt, as long as he kept up his exercise. 

Outside, Boyd was at the vending machine. Almost robotically he punched in his desired number. The machine whirled as Stiles walked up, but his unhealthy snack did not fall from the machine. Before Stiles could offer to help, Tim taught him this code on the machine that would immediately open the vending machine without needing a key (no matter the age or the model) not to mention he could pick the lock anyways, Boyd slammed his fist through the glass and grabbed the bag.    
“Free food,” Stiles shrugged, before grabbing multiples of whatever he wanted and retreating back to his room.

Before he could fully enter the room (where Scott had been acting a bit weird) he got a text from Lydia. Frowning at the strange wording, asking him to head over, Stiles dumped the food on top of his bag before heading over to the girl’s room.

“The werewolves are acting weird,” Lydia said the second he entered, arms crossed over her chest where she sat on the bed. 

It gave him a sense of whiplash, even as he moved closer in. Silently he noted where everyone was; Lydia on the edge of the bed with Cassie (on the same bed) leaning against the headboard with one leg stretched out brushing against Lydia’s back, Allison standing in front of the open bathroom, Bart vibrating in his spot on the seat next to the table, Jaime standing next to Bart leaning against the wooden table. Everyone was there, except the aforementioned werewolves. 

“They’re werewolves, it comes with the territory,” Jaime tried, spacing out for a second before sighing, “You can be quiet.”

“Excuse you,” Lydia bristled angrily, “I think we should leave.”   
“How do we know that will even help?” Allison asked.

“Well.” Lydia got to her feet. “If we’re not leaving we should at least perform an exorcism.” She reached into the drawer and pulled out a Bible.

On the bed, Cassie scoffed silently. Knowing what she was thinking Stiles gave her an exasperated look. Who knew what other deities were out there. For all they knew, there could be another Earth where the Christian God was real and the whole children of God thing was literal. Besides, they had several teammates that were Christian. 

“What if we were drawn here? You said the number went up by three? The Darach might want the werewolves to be the next three sacrifices,” Stiles suggested.

“Bart?” Jaime turned to the youngest of their group.

“Yeah?” Bart looked up from the pen that he had been clicking.

“Sacrifices, werewolf, victims.”

“What about it?”

Jaime just stared at him.

“Oh… history was never my strongest point.”

“Bart,” Jaime stressed, “What do you know?”

“I can’t say.”

“History?” Lydia cut in, eyes narrowed, “This is happening now. Unless Bart here can somehow see the future!”

Silently wishing that he could strangle his teammates, Stiles shot them a warning look. Both noticed and Bart immediately turned pink (he usually did when he realized he had spoken too much) with Jaime just looking at his feet. The two not-in-the-know girls furrowed their brows and focused more on the two. Stiles could practically see the gears whirring in Lydia’s head, noting every weird thing about them that she could. When she learned about werewolves Lydia also learned their superhero identities (except Jason and Dick, she just assumed they were civilians in the know) despite Stiles’ best efforts. It wouldn’t take long before she put the pieces together.

“You’re from the future,” Lydia summarized.

“No…” Bart was way too flustered for that lie to fly.

“You are. You know what’s happening right now don’t you and how to stop it! You know who the Darach is!”

“Actually I don’t know everything. My future is kinda different then yoursbymultiplethings,likeStileswasactuallyalwaysinBeaconHillsandneverbecameasuperhersuperheroand-”

“Bart, cariño, too fast.” Jaime rested a hand on the youngest’s shoulder.

“Sorry…”

Once again there was a pink flush on Bart’s cheeks, his head bowed to the floor with red hair blocking his eyes. Before Lydia could continue interrogating Bart, Stiles noticed some newspaper clippings tucked between the pages of the Bible. Taking it from Lydia, who turned to him angrily, Stiles pulled out the clippings. He handed one too Bart, who looked almost terrified at being given it, and another to Jaime and Lydia. Then he read the headline of his aloud.

“Man Shoots Himself in the Head the Night of the Full Moon.” Stiles said, hearing Allison whisper hunter under her breath, even as he read a bit more in depth scanning the paper.

“Twenty-Eight Year Old Man Hangs Himself at the Infamous Glen Capri,” Jaime added, his own eyes scanning the clipping in his hand.

“Modern-Day Romeo and Juliet: Suicides Continue at the Glen Capri Motel,” Lydia said shakily.

There was silence, Bart staring at the paper blankly. Eventually he handed it to Jaime quietly, expression tightly controlled. Thankfully Jaime didn’t call it out in front of the girls, Lydia too horrified at her newspaper clipping and Allison still distracted about the hunter’s death too notice. Stiles made a mental note to confront Bart after everything was over (and possibly offer some tutoring lessons if it was what he was certain it was) before paying attention again as Jaime read the last one aloud.

“Local Karate Instructor Commits Hara-Kiri at the Glen Capri. Mierda.”

“Language,” Stiles said absentmindedly, “There’s probably more of these around the rooms, in the Bible’s.”

“What about the Romeo and Juliet suicides in room 217?” Cassie demanded, “Earlier Lydia was obsessed with it. Heard their deaths.”

A second later Cassie sat up before rushing from the room. The others followed at a quick speed, Bart unusually lagging behind. They skidded to a stop outside the room 217, Cassie trying the door before kicking it down. Inside Ethan had a circular saw held near his torso. Before the others could react Stiles wrestled Ethan for the saw, making sure to keep it from himself. Then it powered down, Lydia holding the power cord. The sudden disappearance of force against the saw startled Stiles and he fell, Bart catching him before he could fall on the saw.

“Thanks,” Stiles muttered, jumping when Cassie and Allison tackled the alpha.

His hand hit the heater, burning him. Immediately Ethan’s eyes cleared, no recollection of what happened. Before they could interrogate he left the room in a hurry. Mind whirling, Stiles began to think. While he didn’t want to suggest the first thought in his mind, he knew he had too. One of the many rules of being a Bat is never discard any theories, no matter how ridiculous or how close you are to that person. This rule often led to many arguments between the group, but it had also proven its worth just as many times.

“Lydia… what if it’s you? Like when you poisoned the punch at your birthday party.” Stiles barely withheld a wince, that night was awful. It had also come with a late night phone call with Bruce, Jason staying with him. All his insecurities had come to the surface and he might have been a bit clingier than normal to his brothers and Uncle for a few weeks before it had calmed down again. “You don’t know you’re doing it.”

They (him, Lydia, and Jaime) were outside, standing in the parking lot. The others were looking for Scott. Lydia turned on him with righteous fury. It reminded Stiles a bit of Barbara when she was pissed. This time he didn’t hold back the wince, but he didn’t step back.

“Okay, sorry. Bad theory. You’re not crazy,” Stiles immediately retracted his statement, “Besides, you’re helping us stop it right?”

“Boyd, get to Boyd.” Lydia began to push him, before rushing past him.

Following quickly, Jaime on his heels, Stiles helped Lydia throw open the door. They rushed into the bathroom, skidding to a halt at the sight of the full bathtub. Not bothering to roll up his sleeves, Stiles stuck his hand into the water and groped for the plug. When he found it he tried to pull it out, but he couldn’t get it unstuck. On the third try he fell off balance and burnt himself on the heater. Hissing in surprise he jerked upwards and landed sideways.   
“Ethan woke up when he was burnt right?” Stiles asked.

“Flares burn underwater,” Lydia replied.

“I’ll get them,” Jaime said, disappearing before they could say anything.

There was a soft whimper and Stiles looked over at Lydia. The girl was still knelt by the tub, so it wasn’t her. Besides, she looked just as confused as he felt. Standing up Stiles followed the whimpering sound, lifting the covers up and looked under one of the beds. Curled up in a fetal position was Isaac, his eyes faraway and scared of whatever it was. He flinched away from the light, the whimpers growing in sound.

“I found Isaac,” Stiles announced, dropping the cover.

“Is he okay?” Lydia demanded from the bathroom.   
“He’s not hurting himself if that’s what you mean. He seems more scared than anything.”

“Worry about Boyd?”

“Agreed.”

Just as the conversation ended Jaime appeared in the room with three flares. Taking one Stiles knelt besides the bed and lit it, hearing the hiss and his face becoming aglow with red light. In the bathroom there was a loud roar, the sloshing of water, and the thunk of a safe. The noise scared Isaac and Stiles shushed the whimpering boy gently, jabbing him in the arm with the flare. It shocked Isaac out of his stupor and he lashed out at Stiles. Having expected this reaction from hearing Boyd, Stiles moved out of the way quickly.

The two betas were so shaken that the group of three left them behind. Outside they met up with the other three, who were standing in front of a pool of gasoline. Dread was in Bart’s eyes, his eyes shaking slightly at the sight in front of him. Following their gaze Stiles stomach dropped. Scott, standing covered with the gasoline in the middle of the puddle, a lit flare in his hands. The werewolf’s whole body was shaking, with what seemed to be suppressed sobs. Gripping his hands tightly, Stiles tried to focus on now instead of the past. It was all too familiar for him, having been in this place before. Not with these exact conditions or with the same person, but the end goal was the same.

“There’s no hope.” Stiles clenched his eyes shut, trying to block out Scott’s words. “Not for me. Not for Derek.”

“Derek wasn’t your fault Scott,” Allison said. 

“No matter what I do, people get hurt… they die. Maybe if I die, they’ll be safe. It was better before I got bit, when I was no one special. When I wasn’t good at lacrosse. I wasn’t popular, I wasn’t special. I was just Scott. It would be better to be no one again, no one at all.”

Eyes open again, Stiles blinked back tears quickly. The others were quiet, unsure what to say. Honestly Stiles wasn’t sure too say either, last time his actions spoke for him. Then again, last time he was only ten. This time he was sixteen, but actions might speak for him again. Stepping into the pool of gasoline, Stiles reached for the flare in Scott’s hands. Behind him someone called his name, but Stiles ignored them.

“You weren’t no one before,” Stiles said softly, like he was talking to a skittish animal, “You were my friend. Even when I was at Gotham you were my friend Scott. But you’re more than that, you’re my brother Scott. And, I can’t lose a brother… I nearly lost one before and losing you, it’d be crushing. I-If you’re going to kill yourself, you’re taking me with you.”   
“Stiles!” Cassie exclaimed.

Gently prying the flare from Scott’s hands, Stiles jabbed it into his thigh. A soft hiss escaped his lips and he ground down on his teeth, before tossing the flare out of the gasoline puddle at their feets. Sobs escaped Scott’s mouth and Stiles pulled him into a tight hug. Scott’s hands flexed against his shirt, clenching the material tightly. Then a hissing sound filled the air and a soft wind blew. There was a blur and someone knocked into them, pushing them out of the pool of gasoline.

Turning to look behind Stiles saw the gasoline go up in flames like a bonfire, Bart crouching on top of them. There was a figure, the Darach, in the angry orange flames. She looked angry, her fingers pointing at them. Then the flames died down and she was gone. Glancing over at the others, who had obviously seen it, Stiles gripped his fists. His emotions were running high now and he needed to talk to his brother.

And he did, as soon as they returned to their rooms. Only to get their bags, really (as they all agreed to sleep in the bus), but Stiles decided to use it to get some private time. After typing in the number, Stiles listened to it ring. Every single second he didn’t answer helped Stiles’ anxiety grow. 

_ ~Hey~ _

The sound of Tim’s voice (no matter how tired he seemed) helped release most of his anxiety. A soft exhale escaped his lips at the sound and he stared at his shaking hands. Despite knowing that he was safe, that Tim was at home, the fear that he wasn’t safe overran conscious thought. Taking another shaky breath Stiles ran one of his shaky hands through his hair.

_ ~Stiles, you okay?~  _ Tim demanded, sounding more awake now.

“I’m fine… there was just…” Stiles bit his lip.

_ ~Just…~  _ Tim prodded.

“You’re okay right? You’d talk to me if you weren’t.”

_ ~I would promise. And I’m okay. What brought this on?~ _

“Some stuff here hit a bit too close to home…”

_ ~I can be there if you need me too~ _

“No, it’s okay. You don’t need to… I just needed to hear your voice.”

_ ~Alright~ _

“Just… talk okay?”

_ ~About what?~ _

“Anything.”

_ ~Well, recently Stephanie decided to go on her own. Funnily enough Bruce didn’t notice, but I did. I went after her and we paroled together. Oh and I started a new device, almost like an invisibility cloak…~  _ Tim continued talking about the new device he made and anything else he could think of. This continued until Stiles fell asleep in the bus, curled up with Scott.

**_************BATWOLF************_ **

“Where’s Lydia?” Stiles asked, nudging Scott gently.

“That’s a… really good question,” Scott replied, glancing around the room.

Oddly enough, Jaime and Cassie were part of the orchestra. No one knew, apparently, that they played any sort of instruments. Cassie played the harp and Jaime played the trumpet. Then there was Bart, sitting in the front row with Dick. Stiles remembered the argument he had with Jason earlier, over the Darach. Honestly he could barely remember what it was about, probably about it being Jennifer Blake (whom Jason seemed to trust for some reason), and their argument quickly escalated until Stiles screamed something he regretted seconds later. However by that point, Jason was already gone and wouldn’t answer anyone’s calls or texts.

“Let’s look outside,” Scott suggested, nudging Stiles as he headed out.

Stiles followed silently, ready to pull out his whip at a moments notice. Then a scream, the loudest scream too ever be heard in Stiles life (and he’s heard the Silver Banshee’s scream) rang through the air. The werewolf flinched, covering his ears. However Stiles couldn’t tell where it came from, instead he waited for Scott to be able to regain his bearings. A second later the scream cut off and Scott sat up, before running towards the school.

Stiles followed, but he wasn’t fast enough. As soon as he came into the sight of the door, it slammed shut with a desk against it. Before the door closed however, he saw Jason in the room. Pressing his fist against the door, face flat against the window, Stiles watched in horror as Jason leveled his gun at Jennifer Blake, the Darach. There was some sort of conversation, something that Stiles couldn’t here. He continued to bang against the door, screaming for his brother. Then the gun began to fire at Jennifer, but each time the bullet caught her the wound would heal. 

The next scene was so horrific and scarring that he turned away. It didn’t stop him from hearing it all though. The screams of his brother in pain, the clattering of the gun hitting the floor, and the slam of the chairs. Then he returned too look at the scene, seeing the Darach pull the badge off his brothers chest. Her fists clenched and the badge bent, before it clattered to the ground. Then she kissed him forcefully, Jason struggling harshly. Glass shattered and he was able to force open the door.

But only Scott was there, dazed on the floor. There was no Jason, no Darach. Just him, the badge on the ground, and Scott. A sob escaped his lips and he fell to the ground behind the badge. Gently picking it up he clenched the badge in his fists. The words from earlier repeated in his head, guilt clawing at his chest.  _ I hate you! _

“Jason…”

**_*************BATWOLF*************_ **

There was a well of anger in Stiles chest, watching Jennifer kiss him. The knowledge that they had been in a relationship, however secret, grated on his nerves. It reminded Stiles of Kate with Derek (no matter how young he had been) in another girl using him for her own gains. There was only a slight relief that Derek didn’t return it, didn’t kiss her back. Even if it clued her in too the fact that he already knew, her hands pushing against his chest and the facade was gone.

“They already told you didn’t they,” she said blandly.

That was their cue to show themselves. Him, Dick (who had returned the second he heard Jason was gone), and Scott stepped out of a hole in the wall. Hands shaking, Stiles felt the tears already starting to form. Jason was perhaps the closest of his brothers, Tim and Dick fighting for second. His disappearance, especially after a huge fight, hurt so much. Lips quivering he tried to look fierce, but probably looked more pitiful than anything else.

“Where’s my brother?!” Stiles demanded, voice shaking.

“I didn’t take him, the Darach controlled me,” Jennifer tried to say, but soon she was forced to say the truth after Dick doused her with mistletoe, “I took him, he’s one of the next sacrifices. However I’m thinking I should’ve taken him instead.” She looked Dick up and down with appreciation. “He’d have made a nice sacrifice.” Jennifer shook off the mistletoe. “What did you do to me?!”

“Deaton explained mistletoe. A poison and a cure. It means that you can use it, but it can also be used against you,” Scott announced, glancing over at Dick.

The eldest tossed the powder into the air, surrounding Jennifer. Her form flickered and her true form appeared. Scars covered her horrific face, her lips disappearing showing mangled teeth. All her hair was gone, except for a few disgustingly wispy tufts of hair. Then her form flickered again, before showing the beauty she had been hiding behind. Disgust was clear on everyone’s face, even as she completely ignored her facade.

A clawed hand launched out, startling Stiles and Scott. It wrapped around her throat and Derek looked ready to kill Jennifer in a second. One of her own hands grasped at his wrists, as though she was trying to pull his claws away from her throat.

“You need me to save Cora, she won’t survive without me,” Jennifer said, choking slightly, “Call Peter, call him if you don’t believe me.”

The hand that wasn’t choking Cora reached into his pocket and called Peter. While Stiles couldn’t hear the conversation, he knew it wasn’t good. Especially given the fact that Derek lifted Jennifer in the air, aiding in choking her. Emotions flitted across his face, ranging from anger to concern. The two non superhumans (aka him and Dick) glanced at each other. It was clear that Scott and Jennifer knew what was going on in the conversation, the exact words being said. All they could get was based off of body language and it wasn’t good.   
“Careful Derek,” Scott urged.

“If you kill me,” Jennifer gasped, her eyes focusing on Stiles, “You’ll never find your brother Stiles, your lover Dick.”

“Derek, Derek stop! Stop!” Stiles knew what she was doing. But the words rang with such sincerity and truth that he couldn’t just ignore them. “Please Derek, I… I can’t lose him. I can’t lose Jason too…”

There was a barely noticeable flinch, the reference to everyone they had lost in the past hit Derek hard. A growl escaped the Alpha’s throat and he tossed Jennifer into the wall. She fell to the ground with a thump, gasping for air. Then, despite Derek looming over her threateningly, she smirked up at them looking between them all.    
“You all need me,” Jennifer gloated.

In the jeep, a bit later, with Dick driving (claiming that Stiles couldn’t drive in his state), Stiles stared at the camaro in front of them. He wasn’t quiet sure if it was a good idea for Derek to be alone with Jennifer. Then again, it wasn’t a good idea for any of them to be alone with her. Having one more person would at least make it easier for them to keep each other in check. Leaning against the passenger door, head against the window, Stiles picked at the hem of his shirt. 

“She’s acting like this is all a part of her plan. Us revealing her to Derek as the Darach, convincing him not to kill her. All of it,” Stiles whispered.

“We can’t rule out that it’s not,” Dick replied.

“She’s playing us like a fiddle.”

The jeep went silent as they pulled into the hospital. Rain pounded against the windshield and roof, drowning out all other noise. Emergency lights lit up the inside of the hospital, a testimony to the evacuation. Cassie and Jaime had gone with Lydia to the hospital downtown, Bart being forced to stay behind with Isaac and the Argent’s. It was clear he hadn’t wanted too, but they were all worried that the Darach could do something to him and it took Jaime convincing him for him to stay behind. There was a clear, boiling anger in Bart for being left there. Stiles could only hope that Bart listened and didn’t live up to his superhero name for once.

Inside, they ran into Mrs. McCall. Just as he thought, Scott ran over to his mother. The werewolf gripped his mom’s biceps, explaining why they’ve come. Stiles gripped his whip tightly, having a feeling that something wasn’t right here. The mother and son talked, Stiles looking around uneasily. Dick went with Derek and Jennifer upstairs, leaving Stiles with Scott and Mrs. McCall. 

A second later they were up at the second floor with the others. It didn’t take them long to find Derek, Dick, and Jennifer. There was a muffled sound, fighting?, before Peter flew through the double doors and hit the floor. Stiles leapt backwards in shock, unfurling the whip in his hand. The twins, merged together into one giant Voltron Werewolf, roared. Without even communicating, Scott and Derek went to fight the twins. Dick hung back, before leaping into the fray as well with his escrima sticks sparking in his hand.

“Peter, help me with Cora,” Stiles said.

Growling softly, the older werewolf pulled Cora over his shoulders. The two disappeared into the room, the three others following a second later. Behind them the alpha twins roared and he flinched, even as they entered an operating room. Skidding to a stop, Stiles ignored Derek’s suggestion (it was a suggestion not an order), to keep going. Looking around, somewhat out of the way, Stiles scaled the wall before holding onto the light fixture above the door. The others, including Dick, stared at him like he was crazy. A second later the alpha’s burst in. They took the time to pause and roar (like Stiles believed they would) and Stiles dropped from the ceilings and onto their shoulders. Everyone’s eyes widened and before they could react, Stiles jammed his thumbs into the twin’s eyes. Eye goop and blood covered each of his thumbs (which was disgusting) but he pressed harder. A roar, louder then before, tore through their throats and two clawed hands gripped his waist and threw him off. Crashing into the operating table with an ooph, Stiles was quickly grabbed by his eldest brother and pulled by his side. Pain radiated up his side and Stiles gasped out. 

“You idiot,” Dick hissed, sounding more relieved that he was okay than angry that he had done that.

“Go, go,” Scott said, hitting them in the arm.

With Dick’s help, they flee out of the operating room. Due to the lack of actual permanent injury on the alpha twins, they only had so much time to escape. Skidding to a stop in another operating room (just how many were there in this hospital? A lot?), they lay Cora on the table. Their pursuers weren’t there anymore and Stiles felt a little better about that. Even with the pain in his side and back. A soft whine escaped his lips and he leaned heavily against one of the equipment. 

“We’ve lost Jennifer, she’s gone. We need to find her, where would she go?” Stiles knew he was panicking.

“Be quiet,” Derek growled, eyes flashing red.

“Me be quiet? Me? Are you telling me what to do now? When your psychotic mass-murdering girlfriend, the second one you've dated, by the way, has got my  _ brother _ somewhere, tied up, waiting to be ritually sacrificed?” 

A hand rested on his shoulder, squeezing it gently. Letting his eyes tear away from Derek, Stiles glanced up at the crystal blue eyes of his eldest brother. There were no words communicated, not that they really needed it, and Stiles exhaled a breath looking down. Clenching and unclenching his fists, Stiles used some of the techniques the others had taught him to calm down. 

“The alpha’s are still out there,” Dick said.

“The alpha’s want her and without her Cora and Jason are dead,” Stiles replied surprisingly even.

On the operating table Cora seized, arching upwards body tense. Derek immediately went to hold her down, but Dick stopped him. It was never a good idea to hold down someone in the midst of a seizure, the best they could do is make sure she doesn’t hurt herself. Stepping away Stiles looked around for something, anything, to help her. The doors flung open and Jennifer appeared in the room, looking harried. It came to no surprise when Derek pushed her against the wall, claws out.

“You can’t help her. But I can and will once we’ve escaped the Alpha’s that want me dead. I’ll even tell you where your darling brother is Stiles, after we get out of here.” Jennifer didn’t look at all scared or threatened by the claws against her neck.

“You were just trying to escape!” Derek growled, pressing the claws deeper into her throat.

“I was trying to stay alive, you can’t blame me for that!”

“If you want to convince us you’re such a good guy, save Cora!” Stiles replied, clenching his fists.

“And loose my leverage to get out of here? No! Only after we get out I’ll save Cora.”

“You still have Jason as leverage,” Dick reminded her calmly, “I think you can save Cora.”

The anger on Jennifer’s face was frightening, but not even close to being more frightening than the Joker or Batman. Both Stiles and Dick regarded her coldly, waiting for her move. Before she could reply the intercom buzzed, catching their attentions. For a few minutes no one moved, no sound leaving their lips (except the gasping of Cora), until Mrs. McCall’s voice came over the intercom.

“Mr. Deucalion, excuse me just Deucalion, wants them to bring him the woman calling herself Jennifer Blake to the ER reception in ten minutes.”

Then the intercom disconnected and silence reigned again. Fear grew in Jennifer’s eyes and she looked at them in horror.

“He’s not going to hurt her. Deucalion wants perfection, a True Alpha in his ranks,” Jennifer said hurriedly.

“The kind that doesn’t have to steal his power from another. One that can rise by the force of his own will. Our little Scott,” Peter crooned.

“It doesn’t matter, we need to do something about the Twins and Deucalion,” Scott replied, a blush dusting his features.

“We’re not doing anything until she heals Cora. Isn’t that right Jennifer?” Dick’s gaze was cold and reminded Stiles of the bat glare.

“If I do that you have an excuse to turn me over to the Alpha’s,” Jennifer replied.

“I think you’re forgetting about my brother!” Stiles exclaimed, looking ready to attack and only getting held back by Dick’s hand on his shoulder.

“Do it,” Derek growled, claws digging deeper into her throat.

“Alright!” She yelped.

There was a thud as Derek released her, dropping her to the ground. Hurriedly she rushed to Cora’s side, resting a hand on her chest. More black goop escaped Cora’s mouth, coming out like a flood. It was an effect of the magic Jennifer used, mistletoe escaping Cora’s system as well. In order to keep her from choking on the black goop, Peter and Scott put Cora on her side. The stream grew, mistletoe flowing out onto the floor, before it began to taper off until there were only some small droplets leaving her mouth. There was a loud inhale before Cora relaxed, looking more asleep than comatose. Color returned to the female beta’s features, the black stain on her cracked lips becoming the only sign that she had been dying only seconds before.    
“She’ll be fine,” Jennifer didn’t sound all that happy, dropping her hands to her sides, “She’s sleeping off the effects.”

“We need something to protect us against the Twins, so that we can get out of here. They won’t let us just walk away,” Dick said.

“Scott and I can distract him,” Derek suggested.

“I’m not going anywhere without Derek.” Did Jennifer have to sound like a petulant child?

“I’ll help Scott then,” Peter purred.

“We still need a weapon,” Stiles reminded them.

And so they scavenged around. While Stiles had his whip, there was no way he was giving it to Peter or Scott. It was the same with Dick and it would be too obvious for the alpha’s anyways. Them putting the pieces together wouldn’t take much, same with Jennifer. While she hadn’t actually seen Shadow Fox or Nightwing in person, she’d put the pieces together. The Darach did not need more leverage over them. Stiles was brought out of his thoughts by finding a defibrillator.

“Do you know how to use that?” Derek demanded.

“Uh… no. But I could figure it out,” Stiles replied.

“Put it down.”

“But.”

“Put. It. Down.”

Stupid Derek, stupid Dick for not coming to his defense. Almost pouting Stiles returned the defibrillator to its spot. Then he continued to look, often sending the machine a sad look.

“How about this? It’s an adrenaline shot,” Scott suggested.

“It’d just make them stronger,” Derek replied.

“Actually, it might be helpful,” Dick said, “an advantage persay.”

“I agree with Mr. Sexy over here.”

“Excuse you?!”

Before they could argue anymore, Peter jabbed the syringe into his heart and inserted the liquid adrenaline. Him and Scott stepped into the hallway, the syringe still over Peter’s heart. A fight began in the hallway, Dick staying in the operating room to act as another line of defense, Derek picking up Cora as Stiles and Jennifer headed to the elevator. They made it to the basement and Derek put Cora into the back.

“Julia,” Kali sang, it echoing through the garage.

Stiles jumped in the back and quietly closed the doors, hand on his hip where his whip hung. Backing up, Stiles saw the dead body of the driver. Barely stifling a scream of shock Stiles crouched next to the stretcher Cora lay on. The pain in his side and back grew due to the new position and he regulated his breathing. 

“It’s you,” Kali breathed outside, obviously looking at Jennifer (or Julia apparently) and Stiles gripped the whip tighter. 

“Run!” Derek shouted, and Stiles heard their footsteps head away from the ambulance.

Once he was sure they were gone, Stiles stood up and sat on the cushioned bench next to the stretcher. At least Cora was alive, even if they couldn’t do much right now. Silently he remembered the last time Cora and he properly talked before she passed out. Then again, the last time they talked she called them ‘stupid teenagers that only get there in time to find the dead bodies’ and silently wondered if she was right. Without his Uncle there, Stiles felt like he wasn’t doing as well as he used to. He felt the most helpless he had ever been. Now Jason was gone, possibly dying for the second time in his life, and he was floundering.

“Maybe you were right Cora, maybe we just find the bodies.” Tears dripped from his eyes and Stiles wiped them away. “I don’t want to find Jason’s body…”

There was a noise outside the ambulance and Stiles crouched again, quickly reigning in his emotions. Whip in hand he knelt by the door, seeing a giant form through the tinted windows. The Twin’s were outside, merged together, searching the ground. Evening out his breathing, Stiles prepared for battle. But then he heard two pairs of footsteps running, make that three. Tensing slightly Stiles wondered what that might mean. The doors got thrown open and Stiles nearly lashed out, but Dick grabbed his wrist. Scott stood supporting Peter.

“Get out of here, I’m going back for Derek and my mom,” Scott said.

“One problem, Kali has the keys,” Stiles replied, “I would hotwire it but the twins are nearby.”

“Sit tight, I’ll handle it.”

A few minutes later an SUV pulled up next to the ambulance. Exasperation filled him at the sight of Isaac inside, with Bart in the passenger seat. At least the youngest had the decency to look sheepish, even as he helped Dick and Stiles get Peter and Cora into the car. A soft gasp of pain escaped Stiles lips as he helped, Dick pushing him inside next having heard the gasp. 

“She’s going after our parents, Dick she’s going after,” Stiles tried to convey, fighting against Dick, “I have to.”

“Sit down,” Dick ordered.

“I can’t! If you go she’ll take you too!”

As if helping, Peter knocked Dick out as he was distracted with Stiles. His brother dropped like a sack of potatoes and Stiles took off inside. Ignoring each throb of pain, Stiles made his way up the stairs and to the roof. Skidding to a stop, Stiles saw Scott walking to the Alpha pack. Confusion filled him and he stepped into the open.   
“Scott don’t do this,” Stiles begged, “We can save Jason and Mrs. McCall together! We don’t need them. Trust me!”

“I have no choice Stiles, I have to take his bargain,” Scott replied, “I’ll find Jason. I promise.”

Before Stiles could stop him, Scott disappeared on the roof with the Alpha Pack.

**_***********BATWOLF*************_ **

Panic attacks are one of the worst things in Stiles’ life, even the Joker wasn’t as bad. The loss of breathe, the lightheadedness, the feeling of everything spiraling out of control. Blurry eyesight, the inability to stop shaking, and the way your brain felt like it was just shorting out. All of this made Stiles feel gross, it was the best thing to describe it. And the things that triggered it always seemed meaningless later, for the most part. Tim being out of his sight had been one, eventually he grew out of it. But until he was around eleven, a little over a year after the initial scare of Tim nearly taking his life, Stiles panicked if he couldn’t see Tim. Now though, he just hated where it happened. 

He was in Derek’s loft, having skipped school despite Dick being the one to drop him off there in the first place. Everything just seemed to much and he just couldn’t face it. Even Lydia and Cassie were there, albeit upstairs with a recovering Cora. Derek and him had been trying to figure out just why Jennifer had went to kill Lydia despite her not being an actual sacrifice. Then the text came in, from Isaac, about Chris Argent being taken. Apparently it was a trigger and he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t see, and just couldn’t think.

“Stiles, Stiles,” Derek was repeating his name, but his foggy brain just couldn’t process it.

And then there were rough lips on his, a stubble scratching at his jaw. His brain shorted out and all he could think of was the lips on his. Eyes widened almost comically, even as a hand touched his jaw. It was over just as fast as it happened and he released the breath he didn’t realize he had been holding. Whisky brown eyes stared up at the murky hazel, his brain still not fully processing what happened.

“You kissed me,” Stiles whispered.

“Uh… yeah,” Derek replied, sounding as shocked as he felt.

“Why?”

“You were panicking.”

“How did you know it would stop it?”   
“I had umm, panic attacks after the.” Derek didn’t finish that sentence but Stiles knew that he was referencing the fire. “Holding my breath stopped them and when I kissed you-” Stiles was sure he was a bright red. “-you held your breath.”

“You should be a guidance counselor…”

With his brain working now, Stiles started to put the pieces together. Eyes widening he rushed upstairs, Derek staring at him in confusion. Throwing the door open, ignoring the pillow getting thrown his way (which he ducked), Stiles scanned around for Lydia.   
“Mrs. Morrell,” Stiles said once he found her.

“What?!”

“She might know what Jennifer thought you knew.”

Judging by the way Lydia’s eyes widened, she agreed. The strawberry red head rushed after him, Cassie following a second later. Being the only boy made Stiles feel kinda outnumbered, but he wasn’t sure he’d be able to face Derek without blushing anymore so he left it as is. Just walking by Derek too leave the loft caused him to do a tomato impression.

Once they got to the school, which was Dick’s goal the whole day and he probably knew Stiles ditched because he was their teacher, they rushed to the guidance counselor's office. Inside was Danielle, one of Heather’s friends Stiles noted. It was clear she was waiting for Mrs. Morell, why else would she be there?

“You’ve gotta wait cause I got some serious issues to work on,” Danielle said.

“How long have you been waiting?” Stiles demanded.

“I don’t know. Twenty minutes? It’s weird though, she’s always on time.”

“She’s not wrong,” Lydia replied, “I was seeing her at the beginning of the semester.”

“So she’s missing then,” Cassie concluded.

“Give me your bobby pin,” Stiles said, holding his hand out and taking the aforementioned bobby pin.

Then he picked the lock, opening the door once it was no longer locked, and headed inside. Thankfully no one mentioned anything, probably more impressed (or worried that he knew how to do that) than anything. Opening the filing drawer Stiles went through all the folders until he came across Lydia’s. Pulling hers out he opened it on the desk, finding the same tree drawing over and over again.

“You have bigger issues than I do,” Danielle decided, before leaving the trio there.

“We need to call Jaime and Bart,” Cassie said, “And Dick. This is bigger than us.”

“Not Dick,” Stiles replied softly, “He’ll just bench us. Jaime and Bart are helping Isaac and Allison.”

“We should at least text the boys.”

“You can.”

Stiles studied the pictures before his eyes widened. Flipping them upside down he glanced over at Lydia and Cassie, who had come to the same conclusions. It was a root system, not a tree. The roots of the nemeton, in a cellar. They had to get to Derek and Peter, they’d know where it was. They’ve been there before, according to Peter’s story about Derek. 

“We need to find it,” Stiles whispered.

The trio rushed off, but Stiles skidded to a stop at the sound of his name. Agent McCall, his least favorite man, stepped out from the hallway. While he didn’t even look at the girls, he did tell them (in his own way) to continue along. Fists clenching at his side, Stiles reminded himself that he’d rather not go to jail for something so petty as punching an FBI agent in the face. It did little to keep him from glowering at said FBI agent. He followed Agent McCall to an empty classroom anyways, having him sit at a desk.

“Deputy Todd is officially declared missing, his car has been here overnight. Do you know anything that might help us find him Stiles?” Agent McCall asked, the tone of his voice making Stiles wish he could kick his nuts. But he stayed silent, remembering what his Uncle and brothers told him about talking to authority figures without a guardian there. “What about Scott, Isaac, Allison, Aiden, Ethan, or your foster brothers. Your whole little clique didn’t show up at school today. Then again, you and your foster sister didn’t show up until a few minutes ago. What about them?”

“I don’t have a clique,” Stiles replied, finally ignoring the warnings in his head to not talk to Agent McCall until a guardian showed up. “Besides, Bart, Jaime, and Cassie aren’t my foster siblings. Shouldn’t you wait until one of my guardian shows up anyways? Legally you can’t talk to me since I’m a minor until then. I can call my uncle, or even Dick, if you want.”

“You’re under investigation for the disappearance of Deputy Todd, Stiles. Other investigations you’re under includes, but is not limited to, the influx in violence in Beacon Hills and all the murders connected to the school since you’ve shown up. I can get a warrant here to arrest you in under a few hours.”

Stiles stayed silent, glowering at Agent McCall. There was disbelief that he would even try to connect him to the murders. It wasn’t like there was any solid proof to back up this evidence, even with the whole it didn’t happen until after he returned to Beacon Hills. That holding up in court was impossible. It was clear that Agent McCall was grasping at straws, trying to get Stiles to talk. But he wouldn’t, he already said enough without a guardian here.

“You shouldn’t go home alone Stiles.” He really was grasping at straws. “Is there somewhere you can stay?”

“He can stay with me,” Deaton spoke up from the doorway, “Or perhaps his brother that should be here with him, hmm?”

Not long after Deaton liberated him from Agent McCall, the others showed up at the animal clinic. Everyone was there, except Scott and Dick (as well as the obvious missing ones). Even Derek was there, though Peter was at the loft with Cora. But no one really considered those two apart of the pack (except maybe Derek but that was really only with Cora) so it wasn’t much of a loss. There was a map of telluric currents on the table, Stiles explaining his theory.   
“The Nemeton is part of a big supernatural thing right? Like huge. So, hypothetically, it would be on the currents. Or at a major convergence of them all. Look, the bank, the school, even the animal clinic are all at convergences.” Stiles pointed out their positions on the map.

“Gerard claims he can’t remember where it is, even though him and my Dad have been there before,” Allison replied, clenching her fists.

“I have an idea of how we can find it,” Deaton spoke up, “It’s dangerous, but we’ll need Scott.”

Unsurprisingly, him and Deaton were the ones to meet Scott in the woods near the animal clinic. It was almost like Scott was playing a double agent by the way he came to them so easily. Maybe he was and just hadn’t told Stiles about it. This wouldn’t be the first time something like this had happened, even if he hadn’t truly been part of the Team at that point. He had heard enough from Tim about Dick playing the entire Team, convincing them Aqualad (whom Stiles had looked up to as long as he had known about the Team (which was as long as he knew about Bruce being Batman)) was a traitor.

“The Alpha’s don’t know where the Nemeton is,” Scott informed them (double agent?) easily.

“Will you tell them if we find it?” Stiles demanded.

“We can’t defeat Jennifer without them.”

“I think you’re forgetting that you have four superhero teenagers and two adult vigilantes on your team. Three of which are mentors of Batman, one from the future, another basically a demigod, and the last with an alien scarab on them that is annoying but really smart.”

“We need them Stiles.”

Despite their differences, Scott returned to the Animal Clinic with them. There Deaton explained what they were about to do. Him, Scott, and Allison would serve as surrogate sacrifices for their brother and parents respectively. The explanation as to why Stiles would be Jason’s surrogate sacrifice despite not being blood related was due to his strong connection (the strongest out of everyone Jason knew (including Dick surprisingly) in Beacon Hills) with him. It wasn’t the clearest of explanations but it was enough. They would be dead for a few seconds before Deaton brought them back to life. The only downside was that their deaths would supercharge the Nemeton, therefore becoming a beacon for supernatural creatures. 

“That doesn’t sound that bad,” Stiles said, “I mean, compared to everything else we’ve faced.”

“You’d be surprised of what you have yet to see,” Deaton warned, before continuing on his explanation, “Dying will have a toll on you three. You’ll be left with a permanent darkness around your hearts.”

“Like a tattoo,” Scott whispered.

“I already have darkness around my heart,” Stiles griped, “Let’s do it.”

The tub was filled with ice, water, and mistletoe. A three-fold death Stiles noted; hypothermia, drowning, and poisoning. Silently he reminded himself that this was a sacrifice and it had to be a three-fold. Gently brushing his finger against the lighter, something Stiles had given Jason barely a day after he returned to the bat family (which soon became the only lighter Jason used, both as the Red Hood and as Jason Todd), Stiles bit his lip. What if something went wrong? What if he didn’t come back? Should he call Tim, or Dick, or Bruce, or even Alfred. What would happen to them? To the family? They’d come so far but what would his death do to them? Bruce would be devastated, another Robin gone.

Stiles shook away the traitorous thoughts, pulling his shirt off. If he was getting in that tub he wasn’t getting his shirt wet. Besides, it was a gag gift from Dick. One that always made Bruce jealous (which was a little inside joke between the batfamily, Barbara included). It was black with the words, don’t mess with the, in white and a yellow superman symbol. There wasn’t really any reason he chose today to wear it other than it matching his red hoodie (which he had already taken off). Then he slipped off his shoes and socks (wet socks were awful) before unbuttoning his pants and pulling them off. All that he was left wearing where his black boxer briefs. The girls, except Cassie, blushed and a few of the boys (including Derek) shifted with a barely noticeable blush on their cheeks. 

“I didn’t know you got a tattoo,” Derek said, pointing towards the fox symbol on his right bicep.

“I got it when Scott first tried to get his stupid bands, before you used a blowtorch to put his on permanently,” Stiles replied, “Now can we get dying over with? I’d like to get Jason as soon as I can.”

“Get in the tubs,” Deaton said, “You all have the mementos?”

“Jason’s lighter, I gave it to him when he rejoined the family, two months after my dad died. It’s the only thing he uses in both identities.”

“My Dad’s silver bullet, it’s a tradition in our family to make it when they finish their training. It’s a testament to the code,” Allison told them, clutching it tightly.

“My mom got this watch from my dad, she used to joke that it was the only thing in their marriage that worked,” Scott said.

It was then that Deaton described the process. They’d be held under the water until they were basically dead. Whoever held them under, however, had to be able to bring them back. An emotional-tether, someone that they had a bond with. Almost immediately Lydia went to Allison, standing behind her with her head held high. No one corrected her. To everyone’s surprise it was Derek that stood behind Stiles, who blushed hotly and caught the smirk on the superhero trio’s faces. Again, no one corrected him. Then lastly Deaton stood behind Scott, resting a hand on his shoulder. The only ones that didn’t stand behind someone was the superhero trio and Isaac.

The three slipped into the tubs, Stiles’ teeth chattering at the cold. Already he could feel his body shutting down, but he held on. In case he didn’t make it back, he needed to tell Scott. Scott was a werewolf, an alpha. There was no way he wouldn’t be able to survive this. While Stiles was strong, he didn’t have any supernatural abilities to help bring him back. Him and Allison were the two most likely not to survive this attempt. 

“Hey S-scott.” His teeth were chattering loudly, making it difficult to talk. “You’re Dad’s in town.”

Before Scott could reply, Stiles was gently pushed under by Derek’s hands. On instinct he held his breath, eyes slipping shut. His hands gripped the lighter, holding it out of the water, while also clutching the edges of the tub. Panic began to set in, memories of him nearly drowning forcing themselves to the forefront of his mind, but he refused to flail and struggle. Then he couldn’t hold it back any longer and he took a big inhale of the poisonous water. His mind began to float and he remembered what he said about drowning being peaceful and it really was. Going limp, he felt the lighter slip from his fingers and fall to the ground. There was probably a thud, but he was gone before he could hear it.

**_************BATWOLF***********_ **

Eyes opened and he surfaced, water running down his face and dripping off back into the water. Slipping out of the tub he noticed the lighter on the ground next to it. Kneeling down he picked it up, running his thumb over the designs before he glanced around. Allison and Scott were out of their respective tubs, standing in front of it. The room was white, with pillars seemingly holding a ceiling up. There were fluorescent light fixtures above them, the tiling (which didn’t seem to have a temperature) were a pattern of grey and white. That’s when he noticed the Nemeton.

A large tree stump, in the center of the room, seemed to come out of the floor. The floor tiles around it were cracked and broken. Roots spread out to the pillars around it, one root wrapped around the pillar. That pillar was cracked and broken where the root was, looking dangerously close to breaking in half. Slowly he approached it with the other two, noting that the rings on the stump were the same as the rings of Scott’s tattoo. Following the alpha’s movement, he also rested his hand on the stump.

Immediately he was brought back to the night Scott got bit, the night that brought this all into motion. He saw himself, his past self, bring Scott into the woods. Following them silently, he watched as he let himself be caught by Jason and the banter that ensued between them. Backing away as they passed him by, despite knowing consciously that they wouldn’t hit him, Stiles bumped into the Nemeton. The vision ended.

Once again his eyes opened and he surged up, the ice in the water melted. Getting up, Stiles grabbed the lighter from the ground again and wrapped himself in the towel. It appeared he was the only one that had noticed that the ice had melted, which meant they had been in there longer than they thought. The other two regaled their tale and the location of the Nemeton. Whereas Stiles made eye contact with Derek, who was checking him over carefully, before catching sight of an extremely worried Dick who was only getting held back by Cassie.

“You’ve been under the water for sixteen hours,” Deaton told them solemnly, “You have four hours before the moonrise.”

No wonder Dick was so worried.

Later, Stiles was struggling to drive with the wind around him. While he’s driven in bad conditions, this was supernatural and he’s never had to deal with it before. Not to mention he was driving insanely fast in conditions he’s never been in before. Needless to say it would probably end up badly, but all rational thought was done.

Visibility was next to none and Stiles turned his lights as bright as they could go. Even that didn’t help much. Cursing softly Stiles ducked as a branch hit the windshield, instinct taking over as he swerved. Swerving did nothing to held and it wasn’t until the last possible second that Stiles saw the tree. The car crashed and he hit his head against the wheel, falling unconscious.

Minutes later, or was it hours?, Stiles woke up. His head ached but he couldn’t rest, there was no time. Grabbing a metal bat from the back, he rushed out of the car and ran the rest of the way to the Nemeton. Fear gripped his chest at the sight of the collapsing Nemeton and he rushed inside, slipping next to Isaac and forcing the bat between the ground and the roof. A breath of relief escaped him and he sagged in relief. Regaining thought process his head jerked up and he looked around, catching sight of Jason and relaxing minutely.

“You’re okay,” Stiles whispered.

The only response was a tight hug, which Stiles returned. Burying his nose in Jason’s shoulder, Stiles shook softly with repressed sobs. It wasn’t until now that he realized just how much he missed him. In response Jason held him tighter, gently petting his hair. It was only when the roof shook again that Jason pulled back, looking towards the roof in worry. The storm stopped suddenly and Stiles peeked out of a hole just as he gets a call.

_ ~It’s done, we’ll come get you~ _

“Umm, bring a ladder.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: *waves at Chana again* End of 3A, next chapter is 3B.
> 
> Stiles: Yay… Void…
> 
> Me: Would it kill you to sound more enthusiastic?
> 
> Stiles: Probably.
> 
> Review Request Here → Who here loves Void!Stiles?


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: Dun, dun, dun. Season 3B. Who’s excited?! I know I am
> 
> Stiles: I’m not
> 
> Me: Shush darling.
> 
> Disclaimer Here → Can I please have Void? No? Okay…
> 
> 3rd Person POV

 

Nightmares were nothing new to him, nothing new to anyone in the house really. But since the surrogate sacrifice, they had grown in ferocity and happened every single night. Every night he woke up, sometimes screaming and sometimes not. Occasionally he would be unable to move, feeling like someone or something was on his chest holding him down. Other times he would flail and attack anyone who came close (usually Jason). It got so bad that he overheard Jason and Dick talking about sending him back to the Manor, as they were worried about his psych. When they brought it up to him he lashed out angrily, screaming at them then fleeing the house. He stayed at Scott’s that night before returning home shamefully the next day, apologizing softly. The pitied looks increased on the others in the house, until Bart of all people got on the others. After that they returned back to normal, offering their help if he ever needed it. 

Stiles woke up, in a locker at the school. Blinking he looked through the cracks, seeing a shadow walk by. Flinching he tried to see more. If it was an unsavory character he didn’t want to draw attention to himself. Something hit the locker door and he barely refrained from flinching again, making more noise than before. Reaching for the whip on his hip, all Stiles felt was empty air. Panic rose in his chest and he bit his lip to keep from crying out. Someone took his whip.

Pressing against the locker door he felt it open easily. Slipping out he found himself in a classroom and, checking behind him, saw no locker around. A wary frown appeared on his face and he went through all the psychics he knew. Was this a trick from Psimon? Or maybe a test from Manhunter. Whatever it was he didn’t like it. Glancing around the empty classroom (if it was a test from Manhunter where were the others?) Stiles caught sight of the Nemeton in the middle of the room. Despite what he should have done in this situation, what Batman taught him to do (aka don’t touch the out of place objects as you will probably die), Stiles reached forward and placed the palm of his hand on the Nemeton. Before he or even a speedster could react, vines wrapped around his wrist and tugged him down.

The panic seemed to wake him and he jolted upwards in bed. A strong arm was wrapped around his waist, tugging him back down. Due to the veil of panic over his brain, he didn’t think too much about the person in bed with him. Breath coming out in pants he looked over to see Derek in bed with him, hazel eyes watching him in worry. Frowning softly, the cloud of the panic over his brain clearing slowly, he wondered what Derek Hale of all people was doing in his bed. This was completely out of character for the still Alpha, cuddling wasn’t really thing. Even when he was a kid if what Peter had said was to be believed. Then again the kiss they shared during the panic attack (and maybe a few after the whole thing was done but Stiles was refusing to read more into it) wasn’t exactly in the norm for Derek.

“What’s going on?” Derek asked.

“Dream within a dream, go back to sleep,” Stiles muttered.

“You okay?”

“Derek, what are you?” Stiles whispered before he noticed the door to his room creaking open. That wasn’t normal, unless someone was trying to sneak in. He needed to do something before whatever it was got inside his room or got to someone else, “I’m gonna see what that is.”   
“Leave it, it’s not hurting anything,” Derek muttered.

“Someone might be in the house. What if they get in?”

Rising from the bed, Stiles disobeyed one of the most important rules that his uncle gave him. Never ever go against an unknown opponent unarmed. While they might be professional experts in every single hand to hand fighting in the world, they still can’t underestimate any enemy. Going in cocky would only hurt them in the long run, as it means they don’t fight at their best. But Stiles conveniently forgot about the rule and, ignoring Derek’s frantic calls for him not to enter the room, opened the door before entering what should have been a dark hallway.

Lights you would see at a work sight turned on, brightening the clearing and blinding him. Lifting his hands to cover his eyes, Stiles saw the Nemeton stump. Continuing to walk closer Stiles felt dry leaves crunch beneath his feet, twigs snapping. Panic filled him the closer he walked, gripping his lungs and creating a lump in his throat. Glancing around Stiles couldn’t find his bedroom door, the door he had entered in. Tears began to form in his eyes and he screamed.

And screamed.

And screamed.

Then woke up with a start. Daylight streamed through his window and he found himself in his bedroom, sheets entangled in his legs and successfully trapping him. Flailing around he fell off the bed, sheets falling with him. The floor came up to him and he landed with a thump. Gasping for air he looked up as the floor outside his room creaked. In the doorway was his second oldest brother, white fringe in his eyes and already in uniform. There was an amused grin on his face.   
“Sheets best you?” Jason asked.

“Shut up.”

“Get your butt to school, Dick already took the other three.”

“Dick.”

“Yes, your least favorite brother.”

“That’s you at the moment.”

“I’m hurt.”

Next thing he knew he was at school, unsure of how exactly he got there. A frown crossed his face and he looked around for any familiar face. Someone snapped their fingers in front of his nose and Stiles went cross-eyed. Then he blinked slowly and glanced to his left, where Scott was standing. Exasperation was clear on the new werewolves face, his hands up in a ‘hello’ gesture. Blinking slowly Stiles tried to remember what he had been talking about.

“Sleep paralysis,” Scott proded.

“Oh yeah.” Some of the conversation returned to him, vague and flimsy. “Sleep paralysis is when your brain wakes before your body. The person sleeping becomes aware that they’re paralysed. Sometimes you can even see things you saw in your dream. For example if I was dreaming that the Kanima was attacking and woke up before my body did, I might see the Kanima looming over me ready to attack.”

“And?”

“It’s possible that our surrogate sacrifices have lasting effects and our now manifesting as my sleeping disorder. I’m not even sure this isn’t a dream,” Stiles said slowly.

Once again he woke up, this time screaming loudly and flailing. Someone rushed into his room, running into the door but using it to bounce off of. Vaguely aware of Jason, who tugged him close into his chest and held him tightly, Stiles clawed at his brother’s forearms. Sobs escaped his throat and he could feel tears streaming down his face. Taste the salt against his lips with every sob. Eventually he calmed down, sagging against his brother with tears streaming down his face, gripping the arms holding him tightly. Silently he begged his brother not to let him go, gripping him tighter and slowly turning himself around to bury his face in his chest. This was the position they stayed in the rest of the night, drifting off together.

In the morning, after the ritual of the day, Stiles began to pack his stuff for school. Glancing down at his books all he saw was a mess of words. The feeling of panic began to well up in his body, growing in size as it made its way up his chest. Trying to read it, over and over again. Nothing seemed to help the words make any sense (he even read it backwards). Gripping the book tighter, tight enough that he wondered if he would tear it in half, Stiles glanced up in shock at his brother’s voice.

“You okay?” Jason asked.

“I’m fine,” Stiles lied through his teeth, knowing that Jason probably didn’t believe him. That’s when he saw the box in his brother’s arm reading SHERRIF’S OFFICE DO NOT REMOVE in big letters. His body sagged slightly when he realized he could read it and he glanced down at the book in his hands, reading the cover, before he looked back up at his brother. “You do realize that means even the Sheriff can’t remove it. Be careful, you only just became Sheriff. Why do you have it anyways?”

“They’re just files from the office.”

“I got that, why do you have them?”

“Seeing if there’s any cold cases the sons of the World’s Greatest Detective might be able to crack.”

“I thought Tim was the detective and you were the kill first question later type.”

“Why you little-”

Stiles ducked past his brother and rushed downstairs. The other three were already in the kitchen, Bart with a donut in his hand and the other two with orange juice in a glass. Grabbing his keys from the hook, he shook them in the other’s direction in a threatening manner. Immediately they all, except Bart (cause Bart), grabbed their stuff and followed him. 

Once at school Stiles, literally, runs into Scott. The alpha didn’t seem to notice him so Stiles grabbed his shoulders and forced him in front of him. Already the warning signs of panic (and by default the possibilities of a panic attack) were clear on his face. Instead of slapping the alpha, cause oww, Stiles forced him to look in his eyes. Which is a lot more platonic than it sounds.

“Whoa, Scott. What’s going on?” Stiles asked.

“I’m okay,” Scott lied.

“No you’re not. You’re hallucinating aren’t you. I know the signs.”

“How do you-?”

“It’s happening to all of you, isn’t it?” Lydia demanded, coming over with Allison and Cassie trailing behind, “Can I just say it’s nice not to be the crazy one anymore.”

Immediately Stiles conceded to the point, but he wasn’t exactly on Joker level crazy. Besides, anyone who put on a skin tight costume and fought villains had to be somewhere on the crazy scale. Even if just about everyone he knew that was a superhero insisted that they were sane. Yeah, completely one hundred percent sane people dressed up in costumes and fought crime despite having no money. That was completely normal.   
“We’re not crazy,” Allison denied.

“Uh…” Stiles said, but Lydia beat him to the punch.

“Hallucinating and sleep paralysis are all signs of folk who are totally fine now hmm.”

It was, surprisingly, Bart that spoke up next. While he looked relatively uncomfortable, which probably had to do with the fact that he was the youngest but also in the same grade with them. Twisting his sweatshirt sleeve, he bit his lip and looked up at them.

“Maybe it’s just side effects from dying and coming back?” Bart suggested, twisting his sleeve harder.

“If that’s the case we all need to keep an eye on each other,” Stiles replied, glancing between the group.

It was later, after history with Mr. Yukimura, that Stiles found another side effect. He should really ask Jason later if he had these same issues after he came back. No matter what combination he put in (even if it was what he was fairly certain the right combination over and over again) his locker wouldn’t open. Slamming his fist on it Stiles tried again, watching as the numbers changed to runes. His breath got shakier and he gripped the lock tightly, focusing on the pain of the grooves digging into his hands. It wasn’t the best thing to do in this case but it helped him regain focus. Once again the symbols became numbers, but Stiles also noticed that Scott’s eyes began to turn red. Without an explanation he dragged Scott into an empty classroom.

“You’re shifting,” Stiles hissed to Scott, “Control yourself.”

In horror, Stiles watched as Scott began to dig his claws into the palm of his hand. Real, red blood dripped from the wound onto the tiled floor. Stepping back, slightly fearful of what Scott was doing and knowing that it was basically self harm, Stiles stared at the werewolf. It seemed to be working and Scott regain his humanity, the wounds healing and the blood stopping. Before he could finish his panic Stiles cleaned up the blood and handed Scott the rag, waiting for an explanation.

“Pain makes you human,” Scott explained.

“Uh, I know plenty of non-humans that can feel pain,” Stiles replied.

Scott just stared at him. Then Stiles began to realize what exactly the transformation meant in terms of what was happening. And what he realized… it wasn’t exactly good news.

“The effects are real Scott, they’re not just in our head. You can’t control your shift, who the fuck knows what’s wrong with Allison, and I… I can’t read. Everything is gibberish, like I’m in a dream,” Stiles whispered, looking around and staring at the posters that made no sense.

Later that day Stiles headed to the police station, after making sure that Cassie and the other two made it home safely. For as long as he remembered he, with his Uncle and the rest of the family, would head to the graves of his mother and father. Even if the flower arrangements that they bought were taken, they continued to leave them at their grave. Dick said he would meet them there (which probably meant he was probably grabbing the rest of the family as a surprise for him) so Stiles was alone getting Jason.

“What are you doing, Sheriff Todd,” Stiles said that last part in a teasing voice.

“Looking at the past cases. I didn’t realize how long the supernatural were here in Beacon Hills without any sort of… discipline I guess.” Jason was so distracted that he didn’t even look up at Stiles. “Look at this one. A mother and two children, car crash. Night of the full moon, the mother and the youngest died in the crash and the other, Malia Tate, was presumed to have been dragged away and eaten by a coyote. Since I know the truth, I have to use the new knowledge to try and figure these out.”

Glancing around the room, Stiles noted the other banker boxes with tape on them. Reading the tape he noticed that Agent McCall’s name was on there. A frown crossed his face and he glanced over at Jason, also seeing his father’s name on the case file there. Back when he was a deputy of course and before they moved to Gotham. Taking a deep breath he clutched the flowers tighter.

“What’s this?” He gestured at the boxes.

“We need to talk,” Jason replied.

Later, Stiles entered the classroom. It had been a stressful day already, especially with the talk with Jason and seeing his family waiting at the grave. Most of them tried to stage an intervention but Stiles brushed them off, saying that he was fine. No one believed him but no one pushed either. However having someone else in his seat really ground against his already frayed nerves. Usually he would just sit somewhere else but he needed some kind of normalcy right now.

“You’re in my seat,” Stiles said to the girl.

She replied in sign language. It was only due to the fact that there were some deaf superheroes that he knew that Stiles was able to decipher it. Frowning slightly he wondered what that had to do with anything, ‘when is a door not a door?’, Stiles glanced around. Everyone was signing it over and over again, picking up speed as they stepped towards him. Slowly stepping back, these were his classmates he didn’t want to hurt them, Stiles found himself crowded at the door. Even Coach Finstock was signing at him and as far as he knew there wasn’t a sign language class at his school.

A whistle blew and Stiles jerked awake in the middle of economics class. The undercover superheroes looked at him in concern and Stiles took a shaky breath before looking around. He must have been asleep, which was a bit embarrassing. Glancing over at Scott, Stiles gave him a sheepish grin. Best to not show his concern.

“I must’ve fallen asleep,” Stiles muttered.

“Dude, you weren’t asleep, look.” Scott gestured at his notebook.

Frowning Stiles looked down and felt a chill go down his spine at the thought. Repeating over and over again on the paper were the words wake up. All sprawled in different intensities and sizes, forming wake up in bigger almost block like letters. Swallowing the lump in his throat he tore out the paper and stuffed it in his pocket. It was then he realized his hands were shaking.

Lunch only helped increase his nerves and anxiety. Picking at his food Stiles listened to the conversation around him. The others were discussing the hallucinations and waking dreams. While Stiles knew a lot about this concept (his guardian is the literal Batman and has the most connections in the world soooo) he decided not to intervene. Right now he really just wanted to be at home curled up under the blankets ignoring the world. Well, preferably he wanted to be back at the manor (or the cave) just hiding underneath either his Uncle’s cape or cuddling with his family on the couch. But he had to see this mission through, there was no way he was leaving the Team now.

“You know, maybe you should just go to a mental institute. I mean, that’s what people with these symptoms go,” Isaac joked.

That was the last straw. Seeing as Jason had been locked up at Arkham before (sore topic, approach if you’d like to see your insides on the outside) Stiles did not appreciate any sort of jokes that had to do with asylums. As well as anything that implies any sort of connection to him and the Joker. Just the thought of it made the scar on his thigh, the J, burn painfully. Clenching his fists tightly, Stiles ground his teeth and glared hatefully at Isaac.

“That’s not something to joke about Isaac. How about you be helpful for once and offer your own ideas, that don’t include a mental institution. Unless, of course, you’d like to learn just how fast werewolves actually heal. I might not kill, but Jason has no such restrictions,” Stiles growled.

“I spent half of my child locked in a freezer, being helpful is a new thing for me,” Isaac replied, ignoring the threat on his life.

“Are you still milking that? He’s still milking this,” Stiles looked over at Bart and Jaime, gesturing to Isaac.

“I could milk a lot of things,” Bart agreed, “But I don’t. Things much worse than being locked in a freezer.”

There was a sharpie in Bart’s hands, a rune that Stiles didn’t recognize on the back of Jaime’s right hand. Before Stiles could even think of decoding what the rune was the new teacher’s daughter, Kira?, appeared in front of the table. It seemed that only Stiles had noticed her eavesdropping on their conversation, the slight changes in facial expressions when it came to some things they said. Everyone else, even the ones that were supposed to have super senses, were startled by her sudden appearance.

“Sorry, but I couldn’t help but overhear.” Stiles barely refrained from snorting. “The symptoms sound like the Buddhist concept of Bardo. It’s a transitional state between life and death. They’re marked by visits from usually peaceful deities and gods but sometimes they’ll get visits from demons too. It almost always results in death though, there’s no documented people to have survived it.” Bart coughed this time, looking very uncomfortable and even shifted a few times in his seat. It seemed that only Stiles, Jaime, and Cassie noticed this however. Kira might have too since she was standing right next to him but she didn’t show any signs of noticing him.

The time between then and the end of class seemed slow to Stiles. He was itching to see Jason, needing to ask him something. If it came with the truth so be it, but he knew how Jason came back. While most people seemed to ignore the fact that Jason lived around two years or so before getting kicked into the Lazarus Pit by the Al Ghul’s, Stiles didn’t. The tear in reality that brought Jason back to life hadn’t brought him back completely. If Stiles’ guess was right, Jason went through the Bardo stage (if what Kira said was right) before getting kicked into the Pit. As soon as school was out Stiles promised too see Deaton as soon as he was done with Jason, conveniently forgetting to explain the true purpose of the visit.

“Jay?” Stiles opened the door to the Sheriff’s office, stepping over a box as he entered.

“Hmm?” Jason was biting on a pen while sitting cross legged on the floor, the white fringe in his Lazarus Pit green eyes, staring down at the paperwork in his lap.

“Can I… talk to you?” Stiles gnawed on his bottom lip, suddenly feeling really insecure about what he was going to ask.

“Yeah, what about?” This time Jason looked up from the paperwork, even as Stiles closed the door behind him.

“It’s kinda personal… for you I mean. A little with me but I’m most asking you to talk about it and that might make you a bit uncomfortable but please don’t lash out at me I just really wanna know because it’s kinda happening to me right now and I don’t know how to deal with it and maybe you might cause you went through it before and I really probably shouldn’t ask you this the others constantly-”

“Stiles, breath,” Jason interrupted.

Sucking in a deep breath, Stiles counted to eight before releasing it. Thoughts whirled around in his head as he repeated the calming breaths, trying to think of how to start the conversation. This topic was one that was never breached between the Bat Family. The taboo on it was clear, even to those just joining. It was an unspoken rule not to talk about the other’s death. Even Bruce appreciated the rule, except at the beginning (before Jason was back in the family) where he basically demanded Jason to tell him everything. Stiles was pretty certain that was why Jason refused to return in the first place, at least until he came along. Add onto that Dick and Bruce locking him in Arkham… yeah…

“What do you want to know?” Jason asked, returning to the swivel chair behind his desk.

Tapping his fingers on his knees Stiles finally said, “You don’t have to answer, don’t feel obligated okay? Just please, please don’t blow up when I ask you.”

“I won’t Baby Wing, now shoot.”

“When you… came back, like before the Lazarus Pit, what was it like?”

Immediately Jason became guarded. Stiles bit his lip, he had really hoped to avoid this reaction. Now he would have to explain himself and he really, really, didn’t want too. If Jason knew what was going on, what was really causing the nightmares and panic attacks, then the others would know too. Bruce would deem him unfit for the mission and pull him back, bench him. Stiles couldn’t have that.

“Why do you want to know?” It was like Jason had chosen his words carefully, keeping himself from saying something he might later regret.

“I um…” Stiles didn’t want to lie, but at the same time he couldn’t just tell the truth, “With what happened a few weeks ago… dying and coming back I just…”

“Want to know if we had the same experience,” Jason replied, lacing his fingers together in front of him, “I was basically brain dead Stiles, I couldn’t tell the difference between reality and dreams. I didn’t sleep, I only ate if someone stuffed something down my throat or there was gnawing hunger in my stomach. Nothing had any meaning to me, I couldn’t tell friend from foe. I was basically going off of instincts, no matter how animalistic they were.”

The way he said it was void of emotions, like he was recalling something without feeling. It scared Stiles a little, sent a chill down his spine. Yet he stayed captivated, noting the similarities and differences between their resurrections per say. Heart beating wildly in his chest Stiles bit down on his lip, feeling the beginning of blood welling up just beneath the surface. It was a dull throbbing pain, only getting sore if he bit down too much.

“I honestly have no clue how I survived those two years. People weren’t willing to help the zombie kid, I think I killed a few people as well. I was no better than a feral animal. If Talia hadn’t found me… tossed me in the Lazarus Pit…” Jason trailed off, seeming to get lost in memories. A few minutes later he snapped back into reality, “That help any?”

“A bit… Did you have nightmares?”

“I only slept if I passed out or was knocked out. But I really don’t remember if I dreamt or not. You gotta remember, you were dead for sixteen hours. I was dead for a few months. There’s gonna be differences.”

“I know… even between Allison, Scott, and I there are major differences.”

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

“Not right now… I don’t…” Stiles gnawed on the sore on his lip. 

“I’ll be here when you wanna talk.”

“Are you going to tell Bruce?”

“No, not unless it starts affecting the mission.”

A great burden having been released from his chest, Stiles hugged Jason tightly before leaving the room. It was time to figure out everything that’s going on.

**_************BATWOLF**********_ **

What was he doing? He couldn’t control himself, he didn’t want to hurt anyone. It was like his body was moving for him, the other entity in his body taking over. Screams resounded in his head, from him, but nothing escaped his lips. Lips that were tightly pursed, excitement wafting off of the other entity filling his body. Yet fear came off of himself, doing nothing but increasing the excitement from the entity, the Nogitsune, the Void, inside of him. A darkness, encroaching on himself. Using his skills as Robin and Shadow Fox (oh the irony) against his friends, his family. If he could cry he would be.

Run, he screamed in his head. Looking at the twins that followed the sonic emitter that the Nogitsune had in his hand (HIS HAND), head tilted to the side. Sobs escaped his non-existent throat and he curled up inside his head, unable to do anything but watch the resulting battle. It was over too soon, due to him using the skills Bruce taught him to take the twins down. The skills that he had sworn he would never use against another person. Skills that were nothing more than a tool to keep him and others safe, being corrupted by the Nogitsune to harm others. How he wished Jason would put a bullet in his head and end his misery, Scott to slice his throat with his claws, even Jaime let Khaji end him. He didn’t want to hurt anyone, but his body wasn’t listening to his demands.

“Scott,” the Nogitsune said with his face, “I don’t know what I’ve been doing these past few days. You’ve gotta help me.”

“Of course I will Stiles, you’re my friend,” Scott replied, heading over to him

with his hand outstretched.

Then the Nogitsune led Scott to his car. Inside were blueprints (Stiles horrified at the sight, knowing what they had been used for), rope, wire and other tools, and the trail that the Cross Country team used. Shouting out at Scott, knowing that despite his best efforts he would not be able to hear him, Stiles tried to tell him what would happen. To change what would transpire. He needed to get one of his family members to kill him, or do the dead himself. It was the only way he’d be able to keep the Nogitsune from killing anyone and everyone he loved, much less the entire town. All of Stiles’ mental energy was going towards keeping the Nogitsune from finding out the superhero identities and his second life, despite the Nogitsune having access to the muscle memory for all his fighting skills.

“Why do you have all of this?” Scott picked up one of the tools, weighing it in his hand.

“The Nogitsune is planning something.” The words passed through his lips at the Nogitsune’s will, his own voice washing over him with a bitter feel. “W-we have to stop it Scott.”

“Why don’t we get Bart or Cassie? Wouldn’t they-”

“NO!” Inside his head Stiles smirked at the lack of control from the Nogitsune. “We can’t bring them into this. Th-they’ll tell Jason and Dick and they’ll tell Uncle Bruce… I can’t. We have to do this ourselves.”

There was no argument from Scott, though he clearly wanted too. Maybe he was scared Stiles would runaway. Though Stiles knew that the Nogitsune would kill Scott if he insisted, feeling the anger inside his body. All Stiles could feel though was relief when Scott didn’t push it. It was bad enough already, the Nogitsune killing Scott would break him. Mentally sagging in his head, Stiles paid attention. Silently begging Scott to figure it out before anyone got hurt.

“Stiles… this is a map of the trail.” Scott had picked up the map. “What if… the Nogitsune made you booby-trap it?”

Fake concern exuded off his body, even as Stiles shouted loudly at Scott in his head. Practically pounding off the mental wall keeping him trapped inside his own little spot, Stiles tried to communicate. Shouting at him to call someone, anyone (preferably Cassie seeing as she’s virtually invulnerable) to set off the trap safely. Yet he could do nothing as they rushed to the trail, rushed to Coach Finstock with Aiden (who had joined him), as Scott and Ethan rush ahead to stop the group.

“There’s a trap on the trail,” the Nogitsune explained, using his face and body, “We have to keep the team from reaching it.”

And so they ran, the Nogitsune relishing in the minor chaos already. Once there the Nogitsune continued his plan, as Stiles watched fearfully inside his head. Cool chain’s rested in his hand, Stiles still being able to feel it despite being locked in the back of his mind, even as the Coach realized it wasn’t attached to anything. That was all part of the trap and they fell hook, line, and sinker.

A scream erupted from his mental throat, one of warning and fear, as Coach Finstock hit the trip wire. There was a whir and the Nogitsune turned his head to look at the crossbow. An arrow was released and Stiles watched it fly through the air and hit Coach Finstock right in the diaphram. A sob escaped him, yet the Nogitsune felt nothing but joy in the unleashed chaos. Stiles collapsed in his mental prison, stuck being a spectator. 

Screams reached his ears and Stiles watched numbly as the Nogitsune used his body to put pressure on the wound, the arrow in the Coach’s gut. It was Coach’s screams he could hear, as well as those from the student’s that had seen it happen. Blood covered Coach Finstock’s shirt and Stiles couldn’t help but compare it to other arrow wounds he’d seen, even as the Nogitsune bloodied his hands.

“Get it out! Get it out!” Coach exclaimed.

Suddenly his viewing angle changed and Scott’s face filled his vision. A second later Scott was kneeling besides Coach Finstock, hand on his arm. Black veins rose from the alpha’s hand, disappearing underneath his shirt sleeve. Hunger filled Stiles’ mind, which he quickly realized was coming from the Nogitsune, at the sight of the black veins. Longing as well, to be able to do what Scott did. But not to help people, no. Instead the Nogitsune wanted to feed off of the pain and hurt of others. A feeling that made Stiles wish he could throw up but, alas, inside the mindscape vomiting was impossible. 

Once Coach Finstock passed out, the Nogitsune broke off the end of the arrow (leaving the pointy end still inside Coach Finstock) before tossing it aside and standing to his feet. All Stiles could do was stare at what he had wrought, being unable to keep the Nogitsune from taking over. How he wished to be able to disappear from the world for just a little while, by hiding under his Uncle’s cape. Ignore the harsh realities by clinging to his brother’s in the blanket fort they would create in one of their rooms, once doing it in Bruce’s after a bad injury Batman had gotten, before falling asleep safe and warm. Or even just lay out all his fears and insecurities at his family’s feet, and now the pack’s, before having a movie night and inevitably fall asleep cuddling together. But he couldn’t do any of it, just watch with tears pricking his eyes as the Nogitsune wrecked havoc on his life. 

An ambulance pulled up, stopping in front of them. The Sheriff’s car following not long after and Jason,  _ god Jason please figure it out _ , stepping out as they loaded Coach Finstock into the ambulance. A shock blanket was draped over his shoulders by a paramedic, despite the Nogitsune feeling more glee then shock but the Nogitsune wasn’t called a Trickster for nothing. Though Stiles wondered silently if Jason would see past the Nogitsune’s tricks.

“Stiles.” Jason grabbed hold of him tightly, ignoring the blood still on his hands, and tugged him close. 

Despite the knowledge of everything that was going on and what was going to happen, despite the Nogitsune being in possession of his body, despite  _ everything _ Stiles found himself relishing in the feeling of Jason’s arms around him. If only there was a way he could communicate to Jason without the Nogitsune knowing. To warn Jason of what was to come. But he couldn’t. All he could do was hope and pray that Jason would notice something was wrong. So he took this moment to relish the tight hold his brother had on him, the warmth seeping into his bones, and the reassurance from his brother that everything would be okay. Yet he knew that things weren’t over yet. Nowhere close.

“You need to evacuate the schools and school buses,” Aiden suddenly said, appearing by their side.

“Why?” Jason demanded, pulling away.

Inside his head the Nogitsune laughed, even as Stiles wished for the comfort of his brother’s arms back around him. The talk washed over him, going in one ear but going out the other. Nothing sticking to his little mental prison, where he and the important information he was keeping away from the Nogitsune were kept. It could have been because he knew something they didn’t. They were going to the wrong place.

It wasn’t until after Parrish showed the Sheriff’s nametag that stayed on his desk, which read Sheriff Jason Todd-Wayne (despite the fact that Jason went by Todd and only had Wayne tacked on the end so that people didn’t question him when he mentioned Bruce as his brother and referenced Stiles as his brother), in the air that they (Jason) realized exactly what where the bomb was. The Nogitsune cackled in his head, it was too late. They wouldn’t make it in time. Gripping fear clutched Stiles chest, no matter how much that was just a mental thing, and he watched everything play out just the way the Nogitsune wanted it. Just as planned, the bomb had already gone off and there were injured and dead people littering the floor. In order to keep up appearances, the Nogitsune rushed to one of the downed police officer’s side. Already inside were Bart and Cassie, Bart looking ready to throw up with Cassie hugging him tightly. Briefly Stiles wondered where Jaime was (Khaji would know in an instant that Stiles wasn’t Stiles), before getting distracted by the Nogitsune again.   
“Take his pain Scott,” the Nogitsune encouraged.

_ DON’T _ Stiles screamed in his head, before the mental prison around him shrank a bit more. Pressing his feet against the bars of the prison, Stiles continued to use his wavering mental energy to protect the secrets he could not let get out. The barrier stopped moving and Stiles sagged, leaning against the mental wall behind him. Black veins ran up Scott’s arms until they slowly faded away as the deputies lifeforce left him. Stiles could feel the thrill and desire the Nogitsune had for the pain that Scott was taking, it disgusted him.

“The Oni are coming!” Kira shouted, rushing to their sides.

“We need to hide Stiles,” Scott immediately said, “They’ll kill him.”

“The veterinary office, the mountain ash will protect him.” 

“I’ll get him there, you distract the Oni.”   
“Got it.”

“I’ll take him,” Jason offered, coming up behind them.

“No offense Jason, but if something happens I’ve got the healing factor,” Scott said, “You help the others keep the Oni from getting him.”

“He’s my brother!”

“Come with us,” the Nogitsune said, and Stiles screamed as he ‘heard’ the plans the Nogitsune had.

He couldn’t, not this. Yet he couldn’t control the movements in his body. The movements that brought them running into the Animal Clinic moments later, the Nogitsune slowly unlocking the door giving Scott time to get stabbed in the gut. As the door unlocked the Nogitsune threw Scott in, Jason following moments later shoving them inside. The door shut and locked behind them, the Nogitsune grabbing a knife from his boot and stabbing Jason in the gut. The facade ending, an unnatural smirk crossing his face. His muscle tensed and then arm jerked upwards, a soft gasp escaping Jason’s lips as a trail of blood came out of the corner of his mouth. Stiles screamed in his head, breaking through some as tears began to blur his vision. Letting go of the knife the Nogitsune turned to Scott.

“Stiles,” Scott breathed, pale and clammy. The beginning of sweat beading on his forehead, even as he jerkily tried to pull out the sword.

“Oh, no no no Scotty.” the Nogitsune knocked Scott’s hand aside, seeming to relish in the shocked and horrified silence of Stiles’ in his head. “Can’t let you do that.”

Before Stiles realized what the Nogitsune was doing, it grabbed the hilt of the sword and twisted it inside Scott. A tortuous scream tore out of Scott’s throat and Stiles cried, the tears forming on his face. It seemed that his emotion managed to appear physically on the Nogitsune, even if Stiles’ didn’t have full control. One of his hands reached up and touched Scott’s face in an intimate gesture.

“You see Scotty, I’ve been feeding off of the pain and misery wrought here. And guess what, you’ve soaked it all up. I’ve been manipulating you into soaking up as much pain and misery as you possibly can. Give it to me Scott, give it all to me.” The sword inside Scott was twisted some more, the black veins of the pain and misery starting to appear on Stiles’ arm.

Then he could hear it, inside his head. Feel it, inside his bones. Everyone’s pain, fear, anguish all inside him. Sobbing harshly Stiles clutched his ears, even as the Nogitsune’s pleasure skyrocketed. It was too much. Jason was dying, on the floor, bleeding out from the wound in his gut. Scott, in pain, the pain the Nogitsune was feeding off of. Someone had to stop him, before it was too late.

“Naive little Scotty, you should really learn not to trust a fox. They’re tricksters. They’ll fool you.” The sword was twisted again, pushing itself deeper. “They’ll fool everyone.”

“Not everyone,” a voice said behind them.

That wasn’t Jason. A syringe was pushed into his neck and Stiles felt the poison get injected into his veins. His knees buckled and Stiles collapsed to the floor, feeling the Nogitsune get pushed back into the dark recesses of his mind. Eyes fluttering Stiles glanced over at the limp body of Jason on the floor, seeing the struggling breaths his brother took. Even as he focused on his brother with fading sight, he wished that they had just killed him instead.

**_***********BATWOLF************_ **

The silence was almost suffocating, but Stiles couldn’t think of a way too break it. Jason was in the hospital, the other teenage superheroes treated him as fine china (even Bart!), Scott couldn’t look at him anymore, and the others in the pack hadn’t talked to him. Well, Derek had tried but it was too awkward. And now Dick was leaving for a few days too talk to Bruce and some of the other Leaguer’s in search of a cure. There was a promise to be back as soon as he could, no longer than three days. Just seventy two hours, the weekend. While he could hypothetically stay at home with the other three, Stiles couldn’t ignore the possibility that he could hurt (or kill) them without anyone there that could subdue him. Until they found a way to permanently rid him of the Nogitsune, he was too much of a loose cannon to leave ignored. 

It didn’t help that he could feel the Nogitsune regaining his strength. At first he had considered just injecting himself with the poison, but it would become lethal to him very quickly. Unsurprisingly Dick immediately shut that down with a very pointed look in his direction. But Stiles was scared, the Nogitsune was growing in strength each day, biding his time. There were lingering sensations in the back of his mind, shadows lingering beneath his eyelids. Nightmares, keeping him awake at night. The images of Jason laying bloody on the white tiles, looking just as Stiles had imagined him after the Joker beat him with the crowbar, searing themselves into his brain permanently. At night his hands would look drenched in blood and he scrubbed them until someone came into the bathroom and took the washcloth from his hands. If it was Cassie she would hold his wrists until he tired himself fighting against her, Bart would hug him tightly the rest of the night (sleeping with him if they managed to drift off), Jaime would just talk to him, and Dick would take him to his room and they would sit on the bed in comfortable silence. No one would be able to do that for the next few days. As he was checking into Eichen House.

If Bruce knew he would be here right now, standing in front of the gates with a frown pinched into his features. Jason, if he was awake and not in a coma, would be shouting at him to get his ass back home. But neither of them were there and therefore unable to send him back. That fact did little to release the coiling anxiety in his chest, the sense of foreboding in his body. At least the Nogitsune seemed pissed that he was there, simmering anger resting behind his eyelids. A mild sense of glee filled him at the thought.

“What the hell Stiles?!” Scott exclaimed after he pulled up in his dirt bike, barely moments after the brothers got out of the car, “Why didn’t anyone tell me earlier that you were locking yourself in Eichen for seventy two hours?! This is where William Barrow and his fly-infested tumor came from!”

“I can’t hurt anyone else,” Stiles replied, crossing his arms, “Eichen is the best place to keep you and everyone else safe from me!”

“Stiles… please…”

As though Scott was stalling for this purpose, the teenage superheroes suddenly appeared besides them. Cassie and Jaime stepping out of the car, Jaime seemingly being the one to have driven them there with Cassie in the passenger seat. A moment later Bart climbed out of the backseat, kicking the car’s wheel while muttering under his breath. The three of them looked murderous and unsurprisingly Dick didn’t seem ready to help, leaning against the car door as though he had planned it. Something had seemed suspicious, Dick having argued vehemently against this and even offering to bring Stiles to the League if he was that scared before conceding the point and agreeing. The Dick he knew would have tied him up and hauled him somewhere just to get his way (experience taught him well), possibly even call Bruce to help. All of this had seemed increasingly suspicious and now Stiles knew why. Dick had staged an intervention.

“You won’t hurt anyone else hermano,” Jaime said, “We will be able to tell the difference between you and the Nogitsune.”

Stiles could read the message there, Khaji would be able to tell the difference between him and the Nogitsune. This information was kept safe from the Nogitsune in his mind, being filed with all the other things he kept close to him at all times. Yet it didn’t help him feel any better, just because Khaji would be able to sense the difference didn’t mean anyone would be safe. If they tried to stop him, using their powers and abilities as well, it would only give the Nogitsune something to hold over them. This was unacceptable, even if Bart wouldn’t care much and Cassie didn’t exactly have much of a secret identity anyways, there was no way he’d allow it to happen. Even if it meant only Jaime would be the one with his identity released. Yet the identities of all the other superheroes were in his mind and there’s would be released. 

“What would you be able to do even if you could tell the difference?” Stiles demanded, hinting at them using their abilities being a terrible idea, “Anymore of the injections would kill me, Jason is in the  _ hospital _ in a  _ coma _ , the wolves are no match for the Nogitsune, and you’re all only teenagers! Bart isn’t even able to get his permit yet, Cassie just got hers a week ago, and Jaime you’re barely a year older than me. To the Nogitsune we’re just a speck of dust. He’s over a thousand years old.”

“Deaton and Argent are working on a few things Stiles, just give us some time,” Scott bugged.

“Some time to get hurt?” Stiles demanded, his voice wavering, “Time to kill everyone? Leave me in there if they can’t find anything, make sure I can’t get out. Even if it means…”

Stiles swallowed and didn’t finish his sentence. They could fill it with whatever they wanted; killing him, permanently disabling him, shattering his mind so that even the Nogitsune can’t pick his way out of the wreckage. Any of those would work and, judging by the looks on the others faces, they had come to the same conclusion. None of them liked it either. Bart’s face had fallen, Jaime was grim, Cassie’s eyebrows drawn together tightly, and Scott looked like a kicked puppy. By his side Dick shifted, a hand gripping his shoulder.

“You don’t have to do this,” Dick told him quietly.

“Yeah, I do…” Stiles replied.

“We won’t let you!” Bart exclaimed, face stern.

“You and what army Bart?” He was tired, that was clear in his voice. The mental energy it took keeping the Nogitsune in his corner making it harder for him to continue fighting them. Why couldn’t they just let him go? It would be so much simpler if they would just  _ let him go _ .

“I think we’ve got the beginning of an army right here,” Dick replied, gesturing to the people surrounding him. 

It was like a switch had been turned over. Everyone seemed to regain their resolve, standing straighter. Bart’s lips turned up slightly, standing straighter and holding his head up high, Jaime straightened and gripped his hands by his sides, Cassie crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes, Scott’s eyes glinted red, and lastly Dick stood right behind him looking relaxed but tense in all the places that meant he was ready to grab him if need be. This made it clear to Stiles that they weren’t going to let him go without a fight, a fight Stiles didn’t want to have. A lump climbed his throat and he tried to swallow it down. Once again tears pricked his eyes, looking at his feet and scuffing the ground with his shoes.

“I don’t want to hurt you guys,” Stiles whispered.

“You won’t,” Scott said, gripping his shoulders.

“If you’re worried I can ask Tim to come over, he’ll enjoy the chance to see you again,” Dick reminded him, “Steph can pick up his slack. Or I’ll ask Arty and Wals.”

“I haven’t said yes yet,” Stiles said.

“You’ll have to go through us to get into Eichen,” Cassie growled.

Looking once again towards Eichen House. To the looming mansion, the dark gothic atmosphere. The wrought iron gates closed tightly. If he went in would he ever get out? Would he ever see his family again. While he could break in and out of most places, Arkham and Belle Reve included (and the Watchtower too before he was even in the system), this place looked tightly guarded. Not to mention that he wouldn’t be able to do it without compromising his identity as Robin. Was it really worth the risk? Both sides had pros and cons. Most of his pros for staying with his… family were selfish. Taking a steadying breath he looked back at the others. The pleading look on Bart’s face, the slight hope on Scott, Jaime’s tightly controlled emotions, and Cassie’s dangerous warning not to even  _ think _ about going into Eichen. Even without looking at Dick, who was still stood behind him, he could guess what emotions were on his face; determination to keep him from doing what Dick believed to be a dumb idea.

“You don’t need to call Tim…” Stiles whispered.

“Stiles!” the teens chorused angrily.

“You’re not going hermano, not without una pelea,” Jaime said.

“I don’t know what that means but I agree,” Bart added.

“A fight.”

“Noted.”

“I don’t want to fight,” Stiles sighed.

“Then come back with us,” Cassie replied, “It’s that simple.”

It really wasn’t. The Nogitsune had his skills, his muscle knowledge. Who even knew if he’d be able to keep him from accessing everything this time around if he got control again. Stiles felt weak, for the first time since he was eight years old. This enemy was the hardest he’d ever encountered. Harder than even the Joker, which was something Stiles and the others shouldn’t and couldn’t take lightly. The Nogitsune was cunning, the number one trickster in the world. No one could best him easily. But… looking at the others. The determination and the seriousness in their eyes. Maybe, just maybe, they’d be able to help him. 

“Alright,” Stiles whispered, letting Dick shepherd him back into the car. This was a bad idea.

Back at home, Dick on the phone with Tim as he organized his belongings for the trip, Stiles lay on his bed staring at the ceiling. Even with his pillow, he was unable to sleep. The lingering feeling of the Nogitsune in his mind keeping him from being able to relax. Everyone else was asleep already, all except for Dick. Maybe he could sneak out, visit Jason in the hospital. Visiting hours were over, the hospital on it’s night hours, so even if he wanted to go he would get kicked out if they realized he wasn’t a patient. Turning onto his side Stiles stared at the poster on his wall, a Justice League Poster, and stared at the image of his uncle. While it was a picture (Jimmy Olsen managed to get permission to take the picture) some of the features on his uncle didn’t look right. It was due to the makeup that Bruce put on, making his jaw look sharper and his skin paler than it was, so that no one could get his identity. Yet just looking at it made him feel slightly better, as well as calmer. 

“Hey,” Dick’s voice was soft, soft enough that he wouldn’t wake if he was asleep.

Stiles lifted his head partially, looking at his brother, “You leaving?”   
“Yeah.” Dick crossed the room and sat down next to Stiles, resting a hand on his head and gently running said hand through his hair. “Tim said he’d leave tomorrow morning, after a meeting at Wayne Tech. Which means he won’t be here until later that night, especially considering the drive from the airport here. I’ll be back in a three days, maybe less. If you need anything, call okay?”

“Why isn’t he just taking the tube?”

“Tim’s more in the spotlight than anyone except you. If he was just at Wayne Tech less than an hour before, on the other side of the continent, and then he’s suddenly at Beacon Hills people will start questioning. Even with a private jet that’s a bit questionable.”

Nodding silently, Stiles moved a bit closer to Dick. If he had been looking up at his brother, instead of staring blankly at the poster, he would have noticed the gentle smile. There was one more ruffle of his hair before the eldest stood, said a quiet see you later, before leaving the room. The door closed with a soft click and left his room in darkness. Even without his eyes being closed he could see the Nogitsune, moving jerkily yet with smooth precision in front of him. Shutting his eyes tightly, Stiles pressed his fisted hands into his eyes. Once he opened them again he didn’t see the Nogitsune, eyes focusing in the darkness. His hands shook and he clutched his shirt sleeves.

Would it weird if he went to one of the others rooms? Probably. He’s sixteen, almost seventeen, years old. There was no need for him to sleep in someone else’s bed just because he’s scared. And even if he did want too, it was weird. If one of his brother’s were here it’d be fine, but they’re not and he’s not going to interrupt Jaime or Bart or Cassie just cause he’s a little spooked. This isn’t real, the Nogitsune was just trying to get to him. There’s no need for any of this. No need to freak out. He’s okay. In order to keep himself from sleeping Stiles sat up on his bed, staring out the window quietly. 

The sun rose, Bart crashing into his room with Jaime following. A concerned frown appeared on Stiles’ face when Jaime coughed, making a face before giving Stiles a shrug.

“I think I swallowed a bug in my sleep,” Jaime told him.

“Keep your mouth closed, that’s what I do when I’m running. Grandpa Barry has swallowed soooooo many bugs,” Bart replied, throwing himself onto the bed next to Stiles, “Did you even sleep last night Stiles? YourbagshavebagsandasfarasIknowthat’snotgoodforyou.”

“I’m fine,” Stiles replied, avoiding the answer.

Once more Jaime coughed, making a small face. Standing up Stiles stretched, heading towards the shower. Inside the bathroom he looked in the mirror and flinched harshly, glancing away. Where his reflection should have been was the Nogitsune instead. After taking a few calming breaths Stiles looked back at his reflection, this time seeing himself. Shaking off his fear and ignoring the shaking of his hands, Stiles turned on the shower before stripping down. It wasn’t until he was in the shower that he noticed the red markings on his body, climbing up onto his neck. As the warm water cascaded down his body Stiles studied the markings.

“Lichtenberg figure,” Stiles muttered, “I look like I’ve been struck by lightning.”

Twisting around, Stiles tried to follow them onto his back but was unable to see it all. Frowning heavily Stiles lowered his head into the stream of water, hugging his body. There had to be a meaning for it, maybe it was a reaction to the Wolf Lichen? It was a poison after all, one meant to seriously harm and possibly kill canines. Enough of it could harm Stiles as well though and that thought didn’t appeal to him. If worst came to worse he would do it of course, let them kill him to keep the others alive. Stiles didn’t want to become one of the enemies his family, his friends, would have to fight. No one wanted that. 

“Stiles? You good in there?” Jaime called through the door.

“Yeah… Yeah. I’m good,” Stiles replied, raising his voice a little before scrubbing shampoo in his hair. 

It was time to talk to Deaton.

Surprisingly enough the vet was already there when Stiles walked inside, or maybe not all that surprising since they came during office hours. No one was there with their pets though, which was nice. Almost immediately Bart was distracted by the cats in the back, dragging Jaime over. Cassie decided to lean against the doorway between the entrance and the back. Thankfully she wasn’t paying much attention to him, instead watching the entrance. It seemed that Deaton immediately knew what he was here for, taking interest in the marks exposed on his neck.

“Lichtenberg figures,” Deaton muttered, pulling up Stiles’ shirt and looking on the marks on his side and back, “Interesting.”

“What’s interesting?” Stiles demanded, yanking his shirt back down.

“It’s both a good and a bad thing. Good that it’s there, bad when it’s gone.”

“What do you mean?”

“When the marks are there it means the Nogitsune is at bay. Unable to take control of you. When it fades it means the Nogitsune can, and will, wrestle back control from you.”

“How do I keep it from fading!”

“You can’t.” Deaton’s eyes looked apologetic. It didn’t keep Stiles from wanting to punch him. “All you can do is postpone the inevitable and give us time to find a permanent cure.”

“There is one. Two actually, maybe even three. But all of those are ones that no one is willing to do!”

“Death and permanent injury, mental or physical, are not good cures Stiles.”

“How do I postpone it?”   
“You’re weak when you’re asleep. Don’t sleep.”

Stiles scowled. “Easier said than done.”

Instead of replying Deaton walked over to the medicine cabinet. Glancing over at the other Stiles noticed they hadn’t moved. Bart was still cooing over a cat he found, Jaime standing beside him like a good boyfriend. While Cassie was still leaning against the door frame, she was now texting on her phone. Sighing softly Stiles returned his gaze to Deaton, narrowing his brows. The veterinarian returned with a pill bottle in his hands. Whatever it had been labeled with was missing, a simple AMP on it in the Vet’s handwriting. 

“What is it?” Stiles asked, taking the offered bottle.

“Something to keep you from sleeping. Not a permanent solution, but a solution all the less,” Deaton replied.

Stiles could feel the enragement from the Nogitsune in his head. Another win for him. Sticking the bottle in his hoodie pocket Stiles glanced over at the others. Cassie’s phone was in her pocket once again, one eyebrow risen in his direction. The other two walked over, Bart looking disappointed at having to leave the cats with Jaime looking almost exhausted. A small nod at the others and the small group left the office. 

Throughout the day, most of which they spent at home, Stiles popped the pills whenever he felt the exhaustion begin to creep up on him. Once at the hospital with Jason, that he eventually had to leave with a flimsy excuse about homework, twice more at home. Now, spinning in circles on the swivel chair in front of the bright computer screen, Stiles felt the exhaustion hit him at full force. Fumbling with the pill bottle in his pocket, Stiles found himself unable to open it. Blurry vision crept in on him, making it difficult to see or do anything. The bottle slipped from his fingers, which were growing limp. Glancing over at his coffee cup, Stiles wondered if something had been slipped into it. Before the thought process could finish, who had brought him the coffee?, Stiles’ head hit the table and he was gone to the world.

_ “LET ME OUT!!” Stiles screamed, banging on the locker door in front of him. _

_ A shadow appeared in front of the locker and Stiles pressed himself against the back of the cool locker. The door shook as someone’s hands slammed against the other side. Breathing heavily Stiles saw the rotten sharpened teeth of the Nogitsune, the dirty and blood stained wraps surrounding burnt lips. Then the lips moved, looking like a whisper would escape but instead it was echoing screams. _

_ “LET ME IN!!!” the rasping voice screamed. _

Stiles woke with a gasp, falling to the ground next to the pill bottle. Looming above him was Bart, eyes full of concern. Yet Stiles couldn’t remember much of what had happened to cause him to fall asleep, the drugs messing with his memory. Eventually he brushed it away, what was done was done. Reaching up to Bart’s offered hand, Stiles pushed himself to his feet. A quick glance at the time informed him Tim was still on the plane, not even halfway to Beacon Hills. No one was nearby to help, only the teenage heroes.

“Check the marks,” Stiles ordered Bart, lifting his shirt.

“They’re fading,” Bart whispered.

“Good,” a familiar voice, Jaime?, said behind him.

For the second time in under an hour, Stiles collapsed. Bart following not long after. Black clouded his vision, Jaime’s face above him. A needle was injected into Bart’s neck, the youngest staring at Jaime in horror. Despite the slow movements, especially for Bart, of resistance Jaime injected the liquid in the syringe. It seemed to do what it was meant for, completely paralysing the speedster. Even while this happened, Stiles was tracking the movements the older male made. It wasn’t Jaime, he didn’t move like that. Besides, Khaji wasn’t activated. If Jaime really wanted to bring them down, he would be using the scarab.

“Trephination,” Jaime said, no hint of his Mexican accent in his voice, “an old procedure used to cure those with depression or other mental illnesses.” Jaime lifted up an electric drill, the one that Stiles had last scene in the garage. “I’m going to let the evil spirits out.”

Before anything happened Jaime (no this wasn’t Jaime) grabbed Bart before strapping him to a chair. Then he repeated the process with Stiles, being more thorough in his tying however. Handcuffs, ropes, and a few chain like things around his ankles holding him still. There was no way he could move and recently he hadn’t been holding onto anything that could help him pick locks (a bad idea apparently) since he didn’t trust himself. Hindsight was twenty-twenty and Batman was so going to tear him a new one for being so stupid. Struggling slightly, Stiles tried to loosen the bonds.

Jaime began to have a coughing fit again and Stiles was distracted by it. Dark red blood splattered onto his hand, a fly dropping into the hand. Eyes widening Stiles realized what was happening, even as the drill was levelled to his head. The Nogitsune, it was controlling Jaime. Maybe not as fully as it was with Stiles, as Stiles could see the wavering in Jaime’s hand as he tried to keep the drill leveled to his head. Occasionally there was a flicker of recognition in his eyes, fear filling them as he saw what he was doing. It was clear the scarab was helping him fight back, yet they kept being pushed back by the Nogitsune.

“No,” a raspy voice echoed in his head, something that both him and Jaime could hear, “Start with the other one.”

There was a brief flicker in Jaime’s eyes, tears pricking them before it disappeared. Off to the side Bart groaned, coming too and Stiles desperately wanted him to pass out again. Fear was rising in his chest, coiling around his lungs tightly. Not Bart, they couldn’t. He… Stiles couldn’t finish the thought. Gripping the arms of the chair tightly, Stiles tried to loosen the bonds and go to help Bart. Nothing seemed to loosen his bonds and Stiles wished he was Houdini, even if him and the rest of the Bats were probably the closest things to an actual modern day Houdini. 

“NO! LEAVE HIM ALONE!!! DON’T TOUCH HIM!!” Stiles shouted, straining against the bonds.

“Let me in,” the Nogitsune rasped through Jaime’s voice.

“LEAVE HIM ALONE!!!” 

“Let me in Stiles or your friend will die.” There were tears streaming down Jaime’s face, as well as Stiles’ own. Soft sobs broke through his mouth as Jaime whirred the drill, bringing it closer to Bart’s temple.   
“NO! NO STOP!!! S-STOP! ST-stop,” Stiles sobbed, collapsing against the chair, “Yes, yes. You can… you can come in.”

Immediately Stiles felt the difference, getting shoved back into the back of his mind. The abruptness of it startled him, even as he gripped the memories the Nogitsune could not touch. It was kept close to him in the mental jail, the bars of it tighter than before. This time he had to strain to even see through the Nogitsune’s eyes, watching as Jaime broke out of his control and tried to attack. All it took was one knock to the side and Jaime was thrown into Bart, knocking the two down to the ground. His legs walked out the door.

Only seconds later did Tim walk through the door, finding the aftereffects of the attack. He found Jaime wrapped around Bart, the two clinging to each other tightly. The drill laying on the floor, kicked far away as though it had physically burned them. Despite all this, the only thing Tim could think about was Stiles, and where he could possibly be.

**_*********BATWOLF*********_ **

The annoyance was practically wafting off of the Nogitsune and Stiles took a small bit of pride in it. They were waiting in Derek’s loft, standing by the big glass windows. Hands clasped in front of his body, standing stiller than Stiles would like. It was also incredibly boring, but eventually the door behind him began to open. Turning slightly Stiles caught sight of his brother, looks like Tim had finally arrived in town, standing right in front of the door. The Nogitsune cocked his head to the side while Stiles tried to soak in his brother’s appearance. As always, there were purplish bags under his eyes (only noticeable if you truly knew him) and his hair was parted cleanly. Blue eyes stared at him, the clean dress of his clothes only having a slight ruffle. Briefly Stiles wondered what he had been doing before hand, even as the Nogitsune smiled easily.

“Hey Tim,” the Nogitsune said, moving him into a more defensive position.

“Stiles,” Tim replied, “Or should I say Nogitsune?”

“Stiles is fine, I am him right now.”

Inwardly Stiles shouted for Tim to run, to get Batman. Get someone that would do what was necessary to keep him from hurting anyone. The shouts didn’t even permeate the walls of his mental prison, Stiles deflating against the prison wall and clinging to the few memories and knowledge he had kept away from the Nogitsune. Instead Stiles watched as Tim walked closer, hand reaching into his pocket. There were cuffs in Tim’s hand and Stiles felt a swell of hope rise in his metaphorical chest. Where they the cuffs used on Metahumans? The inhibitor cuffs, maybe he’d be able to take over in that case. 

“If Stiles is in there, if my brother is in there, he would let me put the cuffs on him,” Tim whispered.

Rolling his neck in the most disgusting way, some bones popping and pressure releasing, the Nogitsune looked at Tim blankly. Then, with a small shrug, the Nogitsune lifted his arms offering up his wrists for Tim. Already Stiles knew what the Nogitsune was going to do, but if what Stiles thought was right… he shouldn’t be able too. Though doubt was beginning to linger, the Nogitsune staring right at Tim with an unsettling look. But he didn’t resist as the cuffs were put on. However Stiles felt an odd strain in his body and he tensed. Maybe it was affecting the Nogitsune and not him? They were sharing the same body after all.

“Oh, I felt that drain,” The Nogitsune said with a smirk, “It sounds like your brother here didn’t know. Did you not tell him?”

Fear was filling Tim’s face, even as Stiles felt confused. Not tell him what? Did they know something he didn’t? Smugness was filling his body, coming from the Nogitsune. Despite the cuffs on him, it was clear that the Nogitsune still had all the cards. One foot forward for the Nogitsune, even as Tim took a step back. The sight from his eyes changed as the Nogitsune tilted his head, studying the older male before him (Tim was only a year or so older than him) and trying to figure out his weaknesses. While Stiles knew there was no way Tim didn’t have a weapon on him, the Nogitsune didn’t know this. 

“You don’t know,” The Nogitsune laughed, a smirk creeping up on his face, “Oh I’d love to tell you, but I won’t. Why don’t you ask good ol’ Brucie. He ought to know.”

Before Tim could react, the Nogitsune twisted his wrists sharply and the cuffs shattered. Just as that happened the Argents and Derek dashed in. A scream of ‘NO!’ passed through Stiles’ figurative lips, even as the Nogitsune easily threw Derek against the wall. Electricity chorused through Stiles’ body, not harming him, as the Nogitsune caught the taser aimed at him. Head cocked to the side, a blank face staring at Allison, even as he pulled on the taser before throwing it to the side. Once again Derek tries to attack but the Nogitsune twisted the werewolves arm behind his back and forced him up against Stiles. In a show of psychoticness the Nogitsune sniffed Derek’s neck, smirking slightly.

“Ah, you love him. He loves you too you know. Screaming at me to leave you alone.” The Nogitsune stroked Derek’s cheek. “Too bad you’ll never have him. He’s mine now.”

Banging harshly against the bars of his prison, Stiles screamed at the Nogitsune. It wasn’t until the elder Argent pulled a gun to their head that the Nogitsune pushed Derek away. Fully turning to face the Argent the Nogitsune forced emotion on his face, body shaking slightly and bottom lip quivering in fear. Tears pricked his eyes, brought up from Stiles himself, even if it was for a different reason than what the Nogitsune was making it out to be. Tim had brought out one of his own weapons, except it seemed he was borrowing from Jason. A gun was aimed without wavering right at Argent, eyes hard.

“Tim, he’s going to kill me,” the Nogitsune’s voice wavered, “Tim you have to stop him.”

Let Argent kill him, Stiles begged inwardly. It was the only way to keep the Nogitsune from destroying Beacon Hills. Just let Argent shoot, be it to paralyse him or kill him. There was no way Stiles wanted the Nogitsune to be able to kill everyone he knew and loved. Already he had to deal with that in Gotham, even if it wasn’t always someone he knew. He had to deal with it on the Team, Wally had been one of his friends after all. There were more members as well he had been friends with outside of the Team, before he had become their Robin. Now, he couldn’t even stand the idea of it being his hands to take their lives. 

“SHOOT ME!” The Nogitsune roared at Argent. “SHOOT ME!”

It was like a switch had been flipped, everyone shouting at each other. If they needed a push the Nogitsune would give it to them. Derek was surprisingly quiet, staring at the Nogitsune with an unreadable expression. All this chaos seemed to be fueling the Nogitsune, which Stiles strongly opposed. He tried to reach out to the others, but nothing seemed to work.

“GUYS!” Allison exclaimed, “Stop! This is what he wants! He feeds off Chaos!”

“Not exactly what I want. Though I was oh so hoping that Scott and the others would be here, but I guess I have to deal with what I’ve got. It’s a good thing you guys have your guns out, you’re gonna need them,” The Nogitsune said, stepping back between them as the sun begins to set, “You see I drew you to the loft to protect me, not the other way around.”

The Oni manifest by the window and Stiles felt his lips curve up in a smirk. A fight ensues, but the Nogitsune didn’t stay to watch it. Instead he walked casually down the steps, out the door and into the jeep, before driving towards the place Stiles had wanted to be locked up in, Eichen House. Surprisingly he strode in as though he owned the place, walking down the steps and stopping outside a wall with a backwards 5 on it, Self. It didn’t take much for him to break the wall and Stiles screamed. The Nogitsune, the bandaged up disgusting Nogitsune, lay behind that wall. A soft scoff escaped the Nogitsune before he disappeared into the darkness. 

To Stiles surprise, Mrs. Yukimara came down and stared down at the form of the bandaged Nogitsune. Sadness and regret wafted off of her body, even as the Nogitsune walked out from the shadows. It seemed she knew he was there, her body tensing even though she didn’t make a move on him. After taking a few more steps forwards, the Nogitsune stopped a good few feet away from Mrs. Yukimura. Glancing one more time at the body hidden behind the wall, the Nogitsune focused again at the (physically) older lady.

“Why did you entomb him behind the kanji of Self,” the Nogitsune demanded.

“To show that he died as himself and not a monster,” Mrs. Yukimura replied.   
“Noshiko, what ever happened to the woman who called down a creature of chaos, strife, and pain to descend upon all of humanity.” The Nogitsune cocked his head to the side, moving closer. “You called the Oni on me, to kill me. That’s not the woman I knew.”

“I don’t want that anymore.”

“I do.”

The Nogitsune reached out before Mrs. Yukimura could react, seconds after Stiles caught the thought in his head. Her tail, the last tail, in the shape of the knife was taken. It was sliced downward through his stomach, but instead of blood flies swarmed out. The Nogitsune took this chance to escape as they distracted Mrs. Yukimura. Suddenly distracted by the thought of the Scarab, Stiles missed exactly how they got out. Was what he was feeling right now how the Scarab, Khaji Da, felt in Jaime’s head? Then again, Stiles was fairly certain that Jaime gave the Scarab more than just a little mind prison to be in. They shared Jaime’s body, even if Jaime himself controlled it. Their entire existence together was one of mutual understanding, co-dependence almost. Even if sometimes they got in arguments (who wouldn’t) and it was almost funny hearing only half of the argument too.

Confusion filled Stiles’ body (no matter how metaphorical it was) when the Nogitsune laid him down in a random parking lot, pretending to be unconscious. It was only once the plan filled his head, as the Nogitsune didn’t see any need to keep it a secret, that Stiles once again tried to break out of the mental prison. Controlling the others? He couldn’t, wouldn’t, let it happen. There wasn’t anything he could do however, the Nogitsune had him locked up tight in his own mind. 

“Oh my god, Stiles!” Lydia exclaimed.

“That’s not Stiles amiga, that’s the demonio tramposo,” Jaime’s voice broke through.

“Doesn’t matter, he’sunconsciousright?” Bart demanded.

“Yes,” Lydia replied, even as the Nogitsune seemed to trick the Scarab into thinking they were unconscious.

“Get him in the car,” Aiden ordered, Stiles subconsciously knowing he was under the control of the flies.

Arms, Aiden’s?, hooked under his armpits and lifted him upwards. Then someone else’s arms, Jaime’s?, grabbed onto his ankles. They carried him into the back of the car, his entire body limp as though he was actually unconscious. It was clear that most of his weight, apparently he weighed a lot when he was a deadweight, was rested on Aiden’s shoulders. He wished he could move his own body however, give them some warning about what was too come. It was only minutes later, maybe more, that they showed up at the McCall House. This was exactly like the Nogitsune planned. Once again they carried him inside.

“He needs to go to the hospital,” Melissa ordered.

“Do you remember the last time he was in a hospital?” Scott replied.

Stiles flinched, he remembered that day.

_ While this wasn’t a huge thing, while it wasn’t fighting the Joker, or Scarecrow, or anyone else that Stiles had ever fought as Robin or Shadowfox, it was still enough to scare him. A hospital gown lay over his lithe form, falling awkwardly. Standing beside him was Jason, one hand resting on his shoulder. This did nothing to dissuade the fear clutching his chest, tightening around his lungs like a rubber band. The other three were at home with Dick, as Stiles had begged them not to come with. He didn’t want them to see him weak, to see him at his lowest. Despite his protests Scott was there with him, standing on his other side.  _

_ “You don’t have any metal on you,” the doctor listed, Stiles nodding silently, “No piercings, metal inserts in your body, anything at all?” _

_ “Nothing,” Stiles whispered, looking at his feet. _

_ “Okay, you’re going to need to stay still for this. No moving or the scans may not able to be read correctly. If you start feeling claustrophobic press this button and it’ll pull you out, only press it if necessary. We’ll start the scan when you’re ready, just lay down on the table when you’re ready.” _

_ With that the doctor left. Stiles stayed seated, staring at his feet. Jason knelt by his side, drawing him in a tight hung. After a few seconds Stiles returned it, burying his face in his shoulder. Frontotemporal dementia, runs in both sides of his family. His mother died from it, his paternal grandfather is dying from it. There’s a possibility his Uncle Bruce has it. An even higher probability that he has. Recently he had been exhibiting signs of it, which led him here.  _

_ “I’ll be right on the other side of the wall,” Jason comforted, “If you need anything.” _

_ “Okay.” _

_ With that Jason left, leaving Stiles alone with Scott. For a few moments they didn’t say anything, Stiles sitting on the table still. Then Scott moved closer, resting a hand on his shoulder. Taking in a sharp breath, Stiles looked up at Scott. The older male looked grave, as though he was about to say something he didn’t want too. _

_ “Stiles if you have it… we’ll do something about it. I’ll do something,” Scott promised. _

_ The words rang in Stiles’ head. Even the League didn’t have a cure for Frontotemporal Dementia. That had been one of the first things that Jason and Dick had checked when Mrs. McCall came to them about getting Stiles tested. While they were working on it, unless they hit a breakthrough there was no timeframe on when it would become a reality. The only cure that Stiles could think of… was the bite. A few tears crept out of the corner of his eyes. With a soft sob he hugged Scott tightly, resting his chin on the werewolf’s shoulder. There was no way he would take it, no way he would let Scott give him the bite, but it was nice to know it was an option. Stiles didn’t want to spiral into insanity like his mother had done, like his grandfather was doing. But with his lifestyle, it was more likely he would be killed before he went that deep.  _

_ Their hug broke apart and Stiles watched as Scott disappeared through the door. Once he laid down the table entered the machine. The noise wasn’t as bad as they made it out to be, but it was enough to make Stiles uncomfortable. However the longer it went on the more Stiles was seriously considering using the button to pull him out, but he also knew that it would mean he had to do it more than once. Screwing his eyes shut Stiles forced himself to calm. He was a Robin, a Bat, he was Shadowfox. He’d been through worse, much worse, than just a scan. No matter if the scan brought him into a tightly enclosed area, with loud noises surrounding him.  _

_ Then he was standing up. The room around him was hazy, darker and with a tint of blue. It was like he was trying to remember something from when he was younger, back before Gotham. As though the memory was nothing more than a distant dream, slipping through his fingers like sand. But this was happening, it was here and now. No slipping through his fingers.  _

_ He wasn’t alone. _

_ Standing right in front of him, moving fluidly and creepily, was the Nogitsune. Stained and dirty bandages wound around it’s head, covering his features. The Nogitsune moved forward in a threatening manner and Stiles stepped back, raising his fists in preparation to fight.  _

_ “Everyone has it,” the Nogitsune rasped, “But no one can lose it. What is it?” _

_ Stiles stayed silent. _

_ “If you answer correctly, I will consider letting them go,” the Nogitsune continued, “Everyone. Has. It. But. No. One. Can. Lose. It. What. Is. It?” _

_ Again Stiles stayed silent. The Nogitsune got more aggressive in his movements, stalking around Stiles, repeating the riddle as he got angrier and angrier. Then he stopped in front of him, close enough that Stiles could smell his rancid breath. Holding his breath, Stiles’ eyes widened as the Nogitsune began to unravel the bandages around his head. _

_ “Everyone has it but no one can lose it! WHAT IS IT?!” _

_ The answer came to Stiles and he answered it, just as the Nogitsune finished unraveling the bandages. His own face stared back at him. “A shadow…” _

_ That was when he first realized he was no longer in control. The Nogitsune had taken control. Each movement of his body was under the Nogitsune’s control, not his. It was around now that Stiles realized that he had to keep certain memories and knowledge away from the Nogitsune and he did, clinging to them tightly. Mental bars rose around him, keeping him trapped in a corner of his mind. They were weak and flimsy, but strong enough to keep him there for now. With every moment that passed by, they strengthened. So Stiles hunkered down, watching the events around him. _

It wasn’t until the Nogitsune lashed out that Stiles was brought back to reality. His limbs began to feel heavy and Stiles looked out through his eyes, trying to press even further but unable. In front of him was Deaton, holding a little brown bottle. The same brown bottle that Stiles remembered him collecting the Kanima venom in when Jackson was still the Kanima. Score for Deaton! Fury was wafting off the Nogitsune.

“Kanima venom,” the Nogitsune growled.

This hadn’t been part of the Nogitsune’s plan. Inwardly Stiles cheered, ignoring the mental growl at him. Already the Nogitsune was thinking of plans to get out of there, mostly ending in the bloodiest and most chaotic way possible. The Nogitsune might be a trickster, but he was more a Gryffindor than a Slytherin. However that was Stiles’ personal opinion and he was somewhat biased, being a Slytherin himself. 

There was a low growl aimed at him but the Nogitsune ignored it. However the unparalyzed eyes stared at Aiden, a threat and dare in his eyes. There was even a smirk on his face, one that was so unlike him. A dangerous edge to it, unlike Stiles’ teasing smirks. 

“Can you still feel your Twin’s pain? I sure hope you didn’t lose that skill too. It’d be a such a shame.” The growl grew and Stiles wondered if Aiden would be the one to finally kill him. Surely the Joker wouldn’t be happy about that. “He’s at the school.”

“Go,” Scott said.

The Nogitsune followed Aiden’s movements until he couldn’t anymore. Then his eyes immediately swiveled to the people in front of him, even if most of them weren’t even entirely human. Bart was a meta-human from an alien apocalyptic future (had been experimented on even if he wouldn’t admit it, the flinching and occasional panic attacks at medical supplies clued most of them in) who knew how human he really was, Jaime had an alien attached to his spine, Scott was a werewolf, Lydia a banshee, and Deaton a druid. 

“I like them, the Twins. Their tempers are so short and they just love to kill people,” the Nogitsune twitched his lips, “Unlike Scott, they’re a lot more fun. Scotty boy over there is nothing more than a bakemono, trying to save the world.”

Was that supposed to be an insult? Stiles honestly wasn’t sure. Everyone else treated it like it was, even Bart wincing slightly. The anger on Mrs. McCall’s face scared Stiles a little. She wouldn’t kill him, but she sure would make him hurt and wish even more so that someone would just kill him. At least then the Nogitsune would be permanently injured, hopefully, and he’d be unable to hurt anyone else. Though, Stiles couldn’t feel the wound in his stomach anymore. Did that mean?

“Do we have anything to paralyse his mouth too?” Mrs. McCall asked.

“Even better,” Deaton replied, and duct tape was placed over his mouth.

There was a plan forming in his head, laid out perfectly. Pressing against the mental jail in his mind Stiles suddenly found himself somewhere else in his mind. Here he was unable to see what was going on outside his mind. There was a japanese game inside his mind, sitting on the stump of the Nemeton. Across from him, on the other side of the game of Go, was the Nogitsune. Once again the Nogitsune was wrapped up in the bandages. The rules of the game crept into Stiles’ mind and he focused on beating the Nogitsune, somehow knowing that if he won the game he would be let go. Each move he took was calculated and thought out, but it seemed he never was able to get more than a few steps ahead whereas the Nogitsune was five steps ahead of him. 

A howl tore through the air and Stiles sat up straight. Looking towards the left he saw Scott standing with Tim. But Stiles thought that Tim wasn’t there, why was Tim in his mind? Wait, they were in his mind. Glancing back at the Nogitsune, staring at him as though waiting for his next move. Well, he was going to make one. And he wasn’t going to be playing but the Nogitsune’s rules anymore. This was his mind and he was taking it back. Making up his mind Stiles upended the board. The Nogitsune roared at him, but Stiles was no longer in his mind.

There were bandages rubbing at his skin and well, Stiles freaked. He lunged forwards and went to attack, but Stiles couldn’t see. Every attack, no matter how coordinated or thought out it was, failed. Eventually someone grabbed his arms and forced him against the wall, Stiles went limp. 

“Wait!” Tim exclaimed, it was his voice at least.

The bandages fell free of his eyes, allowing him to see. Blinking blearily Stiles felt the bandages begin to loosen, falling off around his head. While it didn’t keep him from being completely released from the bandages, it helped him relax some more. Everyone was around him, some looking more scared than others. However Stiles ignored them, focusing solely on Tim in front of him. Tears began to blur his vision, but he didn’t move from the ground where the two werewolves dropped him. 

“Code, now.”

“Which one?” There were multiple codes, some for different reasons.

“Proof that you’re you.”

“Joker is just a snuggly teddy bear who needs love from someone who isn’t Harley?” Honestly, why did Dick have to choose the most ridiculous codes.

“I think it’s the other way around but I’ll take it.”

Taking that as acceptance to cling to his brother, Stiles lunged at him and clutched him tightly. For a second there was no return hug, before Tim clutched him just as tightly. Reveling in his brother’s warmth Stiles buried himself deeper. All he wanted right now was to hide from the world, but he couldn’t. This wasn’t exactly what the Nogitsune wanted, but Stiles was fairly certain he still got it anyways. Despite them not sharing a body anymore, Stiles could still feel him. Their connection was there, weaker now, but still there. 

“Lydia’s gone,” Jaime announced, “And so is the other Stiles.”

That explained the glee.

**_**********BATWOLF************_ **

Honestly Stiles found this a bit over the top. He might be a little pale, but getting checked over only gave the Nogitsune more time to get away. Light flooded his vision as Melissa checked his eyes with a pen light. Despite really wanting to he didn’t close his eyes, refusing to squint either. The sudden loss of the light startled him, but soon his eyes refocused. A soft hand touched his wrist and Stiles found himself slightly overwhelmed by the sharpness of his senses. Back when he was locked inside his head all of his senses weren’t as, vivid. Every touch felt hypersensitive, the sights were more bright and colorful, sound echoed in his head loudly, and while he hadn’t eaten anything yet (or while he was in his head) he could guess the flavour would be sharper. Her hand disappeared as quickly as it had reappeared and she went outside the door to talk to Tim. No one trusted him right now, except for Tim, Bart, and Jaime.  Honestly, Stiles barely trusted himself.

“He’s normal, physically. I am concerned that it’s another one of the Nogitsune’s tricks, what if it’s not really him?” Melissa demanded to Tim.

“It’s him. We have Noshiko downstairs with the Oni if you want to be sure,” Tim replied, his voice somewhat harsh.

“I do. I’m sure the others do too.”

Unsurprisingly Tim didn’t reply to that. Briefly Stiles wondered where Dick was, then realized he was supposed to get home yesterday. Frowning heavily Stiles sat up, right as Tim went through the door. His older brother rushed to his side once he saw him sitting up. The touch on his shoulder wasn’t as hypersensitive as the other touches and he relaxed. 

“Come on, let’s head downstairs. They’re demanding the Oni test you,” Tim said.

“In their defense, they don’t know you,” Stiles replied, “You’re lucky they called when they found…”

“They didn’t, Jaime did.”

“Oh.”

Once downstairs Stiles stood straight. It was clear Jaime was holding Bart back from tackling him in a hug, the speedster vibrating in place. Silently Stiles shook his head at Bart, warning him not to do anything. Not everyone here knew their identities and Stiles didn’t trust the Yukimara’s enough to give up their identities. Especially not since Mrs. Yukimara was so quick to want to kill him. Thankfully Bart listened and pressed himself more firmly against Jaime, clinging to Jaime’s grey sweatshirt.

There was no warning when the Oni put it’s hand on his head. Everything went black as his eyes rolled back in his head, feeling the Oni rummaging around in his head. It was an uncomfortable feeling but Stiles didn’t fight against it. However the longer it went on the more panicked Stiles began to feel. Then there was a burning  feeling behind his ear and he screamed, convulsing in the arms of the Oni. For a second he felt weightless, before he was on the ground. Slowly his eyes opened, Tim kneeling above him with Bart screaming at Mrs. Yukimara with Jaime struggling to hold him back. Groaning softly, Stiles reached for his brothers hand.

“You okay?” Tim asked worriedly.

“What the hell is going on here?!”

“Oh look, Dick’s home,” Cassie muttered, Stiles didn’t remember when she got back.

“It’s a… really long story,” Scott offered.

Now on his feet, Stiles walked slowly to Dick before hugging him tightly. The bags in his eldest brother’s hand fell to the ground as he returned the hug. Burying his face in his older brother’s chest, Stiles pretended that nothing was going on. Obviously there was some silent conversation going on around him, probably about him, but for now he could ignore it. The arms around him tightened once before releasing him. Stiles let them and stepped back himself. He wasn’t a little kid anymore, he couldn’t hide himself in his siblings.

“Is it over?” Dick demanded.

“Not yet.” Stiles mind immediately drifted to Jason but he banished it. “It has Lydia.”   
“What does the Nogitsune need a Banshee for?”

“She can find dead bodies and predict who dies next. It gives him an advantage over us.”

“Get some sleep,” Dick whispered, “We’ll deal with everything.”

“But-”

“No buts, we have connections remember.”

Frowning deeply, Stiles let his brother push him down on the couch. Over his head Tim and Dick were communicating with each other silently. Bart suddenly appeared by his side, wrapping him in a hug. Despite being from the future, Bart seemed lost and confused. The couch next to him dipped and Cassie sat down next to him, Jaime sitting on the other side of Bart. Silently accepting the comfort, Stiles looked up at his brothers. Eventually something seemed decided, Tim scowling slightly.

“Tim, you’ll stay back with Scott and Stiles. Jaime and Bart will join me in talking with some of our contacts. Cassie you and the other kids will head to school. If anyone asks state that the others are sick,” Dick ordered.

“Got it, don’t you work at the school though?” Cassie demanded.

“Got that covered. Now go.”

Everyone slowly left, Bart giving him one last tight squeeze before rushing after Jaime and Dick. A blanket was slipped over his shoulders by Tim, who sat down on the armchair. Despite his best efforts Stiles still slipped into dreamland, curling up in a ball. When he woke up in a panic later he couldn’t remember his nightmare that well, just flashes. Dark tunnels, flickering lights and bars, a distorted silhouette running away from him. The silhouette was obviously feminine, but everything else was hazy. Whenever he tried to focus more on the dream, it slipped through his metaphorical fingers like sand. 

“Hey, hey.” Tim was there, sitting in front of him. A shiver wracked through his body and Stiles pulled the blanket tighter around himself. “It’s okay. We’re watching you, nothing happened.”

One of Tim’s hands rested on his shoulder, squeezing it gently. Then Scott put a hand over his, cursing softly. Words escaped Scott’s mouth, but Stiles was too busy piecing together why he was so cold. He felt weaker now too, like he had skipped on a few days of training. Technically he had, but the Nogitsune had also given him some weird boost thing while he had been possessed. Now though, he should be back to normal.

“It’s just a dull ache, all throughout my body,” Stiles whispered, having noticed Scott’s werewolf pain absorption thing kick in.

“You’re lying,” Tim replied, Scott having answered a phone.

“We need to go,” Scott said, “They’ve found a lead. We’re meeting at Stiles’.”

As Tim helped Stiles to his feet, Agent McCall appeared at the entryway. The two brothers brushed past him, heading to Tim’s car, while Scott stayed behind with his dad. Exhaustion was creeping in on Stiles but he forced himself to stay awake, no more nightmares. Though that might not be just a nightmare. Maybe he could see what the Nogitsune was doing in his sleep. Hopefully it was just a one-way connection. Then again, the Nogitsune didn’t exactly sleep either. At least not as far as Stiles remembered. Barely a few minutes later Scott joined them in the car, silently fuming.

The drive was short and spent in silence. Once inside Stiles nearly cussed at who was their lead. Standing in the middle of their living room was none other than Zatanna, her arms crossed over her chest and in the really impractical costume she wore. While Stiles personally had nothing against Zatanna, well it was personal but it was honestly a stupid reason, sometimes she just really grated on his nerves. Magic was basically cheating in his opinion and caused more messes than really necessary. And the way she relied on it was just stupid, honestly. Not to mention she and Dick had been a thing, which was honestly such a petulant reason to hate her so Stiles always focused more on her magic using. But in this case, he was (grudgingly) going to let her help. As long as she left the second they were done, magic would just mess everything up.   
“Hey Zatanna,” Tim greeted politely, Stiles opting to milk his ‘I was just possessed and am mentally exhausted’ car and collapse on the couch.

“Scott, this is Zatanna,” Dick introduced, “Zatanna this is Scott.”

“I’m assuming I can get started now,” Zatanna said, giving Scott a polite nod.

“Go ahead.”

“Tirips retskcirt eht dna aidyl eehsnab em dnif.”

There was magic in her words, dripping with every backwards word in her backwards sentence. A cool wind whipped through the air and the scent of burning flesh and blood came with it. Immediately Stiles covered his mouth and nose, shivering violently. Next to him Cassie rubbed his arms, watching the air become a whirlwind and swirl around Zatanna. The older girl’s eyes were white and wide, magic practically able to be tasted in the air. Then, just as quickly as it had started it was gone. Only a few loose papers on the ground and Zatanna slumping against Dick tiredly showed what had just transpired.

“Coup de foudre,” Zatanna said.

“I know where they are!” Scott exclaimed.

“Thanks Zatanna, we got it from here,” Stiles added, glancing at the superheroes around him, “Suit up. This isn’t a fight we can do in civvies.”

“Stiles are you sur-?” Tim started.

“Are you joining us Tim?” Stiles brushed off the question. “Cause we’ve gotta call in a few people.”

Stiles almost felt bad when Tim deflated. There was really no reason to snap, but Stiles knew they wouldn’t do what needed to be done if they had an inkling what would happen. If the Nogitsune died, Stiles wasn’t sure if he would survive that. It would hurt them, but they would survive and move past it. Just like they did with Jason, like he did with his parents. It would give them a reason to fight to their best abilities, it would hurt at first, but they would survive. That’s all that mattered.

“I’m coming,” Tim agreed.

“Then suit up Red.” Stiles disappeared into his room.

There he struggled into his suit, putting on the domino mask. Once it was pressed on and he was fully dressed, utility belt around his waist and the whip in his hand, he looked at himself in the mirror. To put it simply, he looked like death. Sallow cheeks, purple bags under sunken eyes, and deathly pale skin. Gently touching his cheeks, Stiles felt the frigid cold of his body. It stung like only ice could sting. The dark color of his costume contrasted with his pale skin, making him look whiter than he truly was. Taking a shuddering breath Stiles pulled his gloves over his hands once again before heading downstairs.

“Shadow,” Cassie greeted.

“Wonder Girl,” Stiles responded.

“You don’t look too good hermano,” Jaime told him, in his armor with Bart at his side.

“I hope things work out like they did in my past… well some of it at least,” Bart whispered.

“Got any tips for us?” Stiles asked, glancing over at the youngest.

Bart bit his lip hard enough for it to bleed, but he didn’t even flinch. “Watch eachothers back, I don’t know how much is changed already with us here… but either way not everyone is going to make it back in one piece.”

“I’m good with two pieces,” Cassie replied, “As long as we leave alive.”

There was no reply with Bart. Everyone else joined them at Oak Creek and Stiles looked up at the metal bars of the gate. The ominous feeling, the feeling that not everyone is going to make it, crept up in his chest. Taking a measured breath, Stiles looked at his two brothers and his team. Then he turned to look at the pack, Allison and Isaac standing closer together than before. Briefly he wondered what he had missed before shaking it off.

“Everyone know the plan?” Stiles asked.

“No offense… actually offense but Stiles you look dead and stuff. Like you’re dying. You’re all pale and getting worse. What if the Nogitsune you is getting better and you’re getting worse. If we kill him we could kill you,” Isaac stated.

“I don’t care, I don’t want anyone else to die for me. I remember, I remember  _ everything he had me do _ . It was my body and I don’t… I can’t let him kill anyone else because of me, there’s enough blood on my hands.”

“It wasn’t you Stiles,” Scott said, before his brothers or teammates could argue with Stiles.

“I still remember it. You have to promise,  _ PROMISE _ , that no one else gets hurt because of me,” Stiles said. “I remember it, I remember all of it. I remember liking it!”

“It wasn’t you,” Tim repeated Scott’s earlier words.

“ _ Promise me _ ,” Stiles insisted.

“We promise, okay? We won’t let you hurt anyone.”

It was like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders, even if it didn’t help him much. He still felt too weak, the energy draining out of him steadily. Warmth seeping out of him steadily, making him feel frigid to the touch. Stiles missed what Scott said, a strong shiver wracking his frame. However he had caught the sentence that Isaac said in reply.

“Actually, I’m just here because I didn’t feel like doing homework.”

“Same,” Bart muttered, “This is much more crash than doing that.”

“Cariño,” Jaime sighed.

“Everyone know what they’re doing?” Stiles repeated.

“Yeah.”

They broke apart, Scott and Stiles heading into the tunnels. It wasn’t the best way to go about it, what they were doing, but Scott’s sense of smell was the best they had. Eventually they caught a strong enough scent to follow, running down the corridors. It would be easier if they had Bart with them, but it was best he stay aboveground. If anything happened, Bart was the best at being able to get them out. Or at least get help in the form of Barry and Wally (who can carry them out). Though Stiles wasn’t exactly sure how fast they’d be able to get here. Yet they still got to Lydia fairly quickly.

“No, no, no!” Lydia repeated, over and over again. “I told you not to come! How’d you get here? Who else did you bring?!”

Quickly glancing at each other, Stiles used an exploding batarang to break the lock. The explosion echoed around them, louder than it normally would be. There was ringing in their ears as they rushed up through the tunnels. But Stiles could feel himself weakening, pushing himself farther than most others would be able too. Yet he found a large drain in his energy and collapsed to the ground, Lydia rushing back to his side as Scott ran ahead.

“ALLISON!!!” Lydia screamed a few moments later, even as blackness overcame Stiles.

**_***********BATWOLF*********_ **

Once again back at home, Stiles was awake and drinking the chamomile tea that Dick said was prescribed by the Yukimara’s. Everyone was shaken from Allison’s death. Out of all of them Bart was taking it worse, crying silently while clinging to a stoic face Jaime (whom everyone could see was slowly breaking inside), Cassie was clearly in shock (her face pale), Dick’s hands were shaking slightly and he had them clenched in fists, Tim was taking it better than the rest however he was pale faced. Stiles hadn’t seen it, but while he had been unconscious he had seen it as though it was a dream. Most of the pieces were gone but there was enough that he felt the guilt of her death full force.

“Is anyone else feeling like we’re running out of time,” Cassie said solemnly, “Like we should be doing something.”

“I think we all are,” Tim replied, sitting next to Stiles quietly.

“I feel it,” Stiles agreed, taking another sip, “We need to be doing something.”

A phone ringing broke the relative silence of the house. Everyone jumped a little, except Stiles who barely had enough strength just to hold his mug of tea. Even Bart’s quiet sobs, Stiles had a feeling that it was more than just Allison’s death that was affecting him (he had warned them that not everyone was going to survive or return in one piece) and he was sure Jaime came to the same conclusion, tapered off a bit at the sound of the phone. When no one moved, Stiles shakily put the mug down and picked up the phone.

_ ~We’ve got a way to the Nogitsune trapped~  _ Derek said  _ ~Meet us at the school~ _

“Hello to you too Derek,” Stiles muttered.

_ ~Hi Stiles. We need to do this now guys, if you’re gonna suit yourselves up do it~ _

“The Nogitsune knows about us now.” Bart sniffled a little. “It was one of the first things he did when he showed up. He didn’t see us and he knew… somehow he knew who we were under the masks, except Tim.”

“I kept that information away from him, it was one of the few things I could do…” Stiles whispered.

_ ~It doesn’t matter now. Meet us at the school and we can end this~  _

Derek hung up before anyone could reply. With a sigh Stiles dropped the phone back where it had been before and got up. Immediately there were multiple protests to his involvement, which he replied with a small glare. Everyone was still in their suits, masks off (if they had it), sitting around the living room. Now though they needed to get back to the school and finish this once and for all. Even if it ended with his death. No one else was going to die for him, if he had a say in it.

“Stiles you are benched! You can barely hold a mug!” Dick exclaimed.

“So?! There’s a possibility I will die anyways! If you kill the Nogitsune you might kill me too! Let me die fighting!” Stiles replied angrily, fixing his mask on his face shakily.

Everyone went solemn, but no one argued. Once again Bart sniffed, staring at Stiles solemnly. Had Stiles died horribly in his future? Did he know something Stiles didn’t about what was going to happen. Looking away from Bart, Stiles headed out the door. All the others scrambled after him, putting on their masks and gathering up their weapons. It didn’t take long for them too make it to the school, Derek already waiting there. All it took were three steps and Derek was right in front of Stiles. Taking Stiles’ jaw in his hand, Derek lifted his face up to look at him in the eyes (despite the domino mask). 

“You don’t look too good,” Derek told him softly, gently stroking his cheek.

“I know,” Stiles whispered, eyes searching Derek’s for something. He didn’t know what. “But I’ve gotta do this.”

“Be careful okay?”

“Okay… I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Before Stiles could think, Derek leaned down and kissed him gently. Stiles practically melted into the kiss, returning it softly. There was a soft cough behind them, loud enough to catch their attention and obvious enough to make them blush, so they broke apart. A soft blush dusted over Stiles cheeks as Tim gave him a thumbs up and Dick grinned. 

“We kinda have a trickster spirit to catch, make out later,” Aiden growled.

“Aiden, Ethan, Derek, Cassie, and Tim will stay out here and watch out for us,” Dick said, “The rest of us head inside to trap it.”

“If killing it means killing me, then do it anyways,” Stiles ordered, “I don’t care, my life isn’t worth all the others.”   
“We’re saving you hermano,” Jaime replied, “That’s the plan and we’re sticking too it.”

The doors in front of them were pushed open and immediately they found themselves in the middle of a snowy japanese garden. It didn’t help, the chill, in keeping the little body heat he still had left. Shivering harshly and leaning heavily on his oldest brother, Stiles stared around at the places around him. The Oni were standing besides the Nogitsune, once again wearing the bandages around his body, heading towards them. Immediately the others began to fight, Stiles getting handed off to Lydia (the only one who did not know how to fight) and holding tightly onto her. His whip was unfurled in his hand, ready to ward off any of the Oni coming their way. 

“We’re going to kill them off, one by one,” the Nogitsune taunted, “You are between life and death.”

“Bardo,” Lydia whispered.

“Stiles is dying,” the Nogitsune rasped, “and so is everyone else. I’ve captured all the territories on the board; the hospital, the station, the animal clinic.”

Immediately Stiles’ mind flashed to Jason, who was in a coma at the hospital. If the Nogitsune had it, what was happening to him? Fear flooded his entire body, clamping around his lungs tightly. Flicking his whip fearfully, Stiles lashed out at an Oni. It didn’t even hurt it. Bart ran around the Oni, getting slashed at a few times but he continued to run. It was only Jaime who wasn’t fighting, head tilted to the side and dodging a few times. 

“Seppuku, a suicide ritual in Japan. They would stab themselves in the gut, but it’s the best friend that would behead them. A trusted friend. Scott is your trusted friend, your kaishaku. Everyone will die unless Scott kills you like this Stiles,” the Nogitsune rasped.

“Why?” Stiles whispered.

“To win the game.”

The Oni began to get the upperhand. There was a swipe of the sword against Kira’s katana, twisting it before causing her too loose hold. It flew through the air and landed on the snow. Now all Kira do was dodge. Jumping for the sword, Stiles grabbed it quickly and aimed it towards his stomach. Hand shaking, which caused the sword to tremble as well. Everyone shouted at him and Stiles shut his eyes tightly, wishing he had the strength to plunge it into his gut. 

“Give up the game Stiles,” the Nogitsune rasped.

Stiles took a steadying breath, eyes still closed, as he lifted the sword up. Just one swift move, one swift move and it was all over. If only he could bring himself to do it. But there was a lingering sense that something wasn’t right. The Nogitsune had his face now, why would it be wearing the bandages?

“Guys! It’s fake. It’s un truco,” Jaime shouted, “An allusion! Don’t do it Stiles!”

“It feels real!” Kira shouted back. 

“You have no moves left Stiles,” the Nogitsune rasped.

“Yeah I do,” Stiles replied, glancing over at Kira and tossing her back the katana, “A divine move.”

“Walk right through, they can’t hurt you amigos,” Jaime muttered.

They walked through, Dick back to holding him up. Swords slashed at their skin, feeling like a big papercut getting cut into their bodies. Each wound caused them to cry out in pain, wince and limp. They tripped into the hallway, Stiles stumbling. Then he nearly fell to the ground as the Nogitsune version of him knocked the others away and forced Scott against the wall. Turning to him the Nogitsune began to storm towards him and Dick. Every step the Nogitsune took closer they took back, leading him away from the others.

“Divine move, divine move, you think you have any moves at all?” The Nogitsune raged. “You can kill the Oni! But me?! Me?! I’m a thousand years old! You can’t kill me!”

“Ah, but we can change you,” Dick snarked.

“You can’t be a fox and a wolf,” Stiles said.

Behind the Nogitsune, Stiles leapt up with red eyes blazing and fangs elongated. Claws grabbed the Nogitsune as the fangs sunk in. The Nogitsune’s eyes widened and he roared angrily, staring at Scott. Once Scott let go Jaime appeared, right arm shifted into a sword, and he stabbed the Nogitsune in the heart while Kira stabbed him through the back. There was a scream that erupted from the Nogitsune’s throat and Stiles found himself seeing from both the Nogitsune and his eyes. The lights flickered and Stiles found himself practically falling into Dick’s arms. A fly escaped from the Nogitsune, him?, before flying down the hallway. His other body (himself?) started to spazz then freeze up before stilling and falling to the ground. It began to crack before falling to the ground in dust, dissipating quickly. 

Head swimming, Stiles collapsed into Dick’s arms. It felt like he was dying. Blackness creeping in his vision, overtaking him. Only moments later he awoke, on the ground with his head on Dick’s thigh. His mask was off, Dick gently stroking his forehead and hair.

“I passed out didn’t I?” Stiles joked, “That’s embarrassing. We’re all okay.”

“We’re alive,” Scott agreed.

In response Bart looked away, staring at his hands. Concern filled Stiles and he began to sit up, silently counting everyone there. There didn’t seem to be anything missing. So then, why did Bart? Something was happening right now wasn’t it, someone was dying right now. Or they were already dead. With the memories slowly coming back Stiles began to realize what Bart was so upset about.

“No, Aiden,” Stiles whispered horrified, sitting up abruptly.

The room spun around him, even as the sound of heels running away from them resounded around him. Taking a shaky breath Stiles got to his feet with Dick and Jaime’s help. Strength returned to him quickly and Stiles was soon running after Lydia, the others rushing after him. Outside Stiles saw Aiden puking up black goo, it dribbling down his chin, with Ethan holding him up. Tim was leaning heavily against Cassie, one of his legs bent awkwardly. Probably broken. His mind catching up to him, even as Lydia cried in his chest, Stiles stared at Derek. The red eyes of the other alpha watched him carefully before giving a small nod. Relaxing slightly Stiles wrapped his arms around Lydia, letting her cry.

A few days later Stiles stared at the evidence board in his room. Only two days earlier Jason woke from his coma, today he was coming home. The others had already left with Dick too pick him up, leaving Stiles alone in the house. It was nice, almost, having the house to himself. While the others meant well someone was always with him, which became almost suffocating. Now he was alone, just for once.

Methodically he began to tear down the board, unraveling the colored string from the pushpins and rolling it back in a slowly growing ball. Gently placing it on his bedside table Stiles began to tear off the pictures and newspaper clippings, tossing them into the trash bin he pulled close with his feet. At one point during his methodical cleaning, he heard the door open and close and voices begin to reach his ears. Dumping the newspaper clippings into the trash after glancing down at them, Stiles heard someone make their way to his room.

“What’re you doin?” Stiles turned around and smiled a little at the sight of Jason, a little pale but on his feet (during his period in the hospital his wound had completely healed) leaning against his well.

“Just… clearing my head.” Stiles tugged a little on his Green Lantern shirt.

“Mind if I join you?”

“No…”

Stiles traced Jason’s movements, watching him pluck out a few of the push pins. Silently Stiles joined him, continuing to tear the pictures and newspaper clippings from the wall. The silence was comforting, only the rustling of papers breaking it. A few times Jason bumped Stiles’ hip in a friendly manner. Maybe it was Jason’s way of letting him know he didn’t blame him or that nothing had changed between them. Whatever it was it brought a lump to Stiles’ throat and his hands shook with repressed emotion.

“You okay?” Jason asked.

“Is anyone?” Stiles responded, crumpling the papers in his hands before dropping them in the trash bin.

“I wouldn’t know.”

Stiles flinched, looking down and away. Pulling his bottom lip in his mouth with his teeth, Stiles bit down on it hard. It probably would have bled if Jason hadn’t turned him around and lightly tapped on his mouth with his index finger. Releasing his bottom lip, feeling the rawness of a welt beginning to form, Stiles hugged his brother tightly. A soft sob escaped his lips and he clutched his brothers shirt.

“I don’t blame you,” Jason whispered to him, “It’d be a bit hypocritical of me anyways, considering how many I’ve killed.”

Stiles only sobbed harder. Eventually, Stiles didn’t know exactly when, they sat on his bed with Jason rubbing his back. No one interrupted them, maybe due to a warning from Cassie, and no one came down the hall. Tightening his grip on Jason, Stiles sniffed a few times and blinked out a few more tears. Then he slowly released his death grip and pulled back, wiping at his nose and eyes.

“S-sorry,” Stiles whispered.

“What kind of brother would I be if I didn’t let you snot on me?”

“A jerky one.”

“Better be beef.”

Stiles pushed him. “I hate you.”

“You’re welcome.”

**_*****************BATWOLF**************_ **

So much had changed at home and Stiles desperately wanted to go back, but he couldn’t. Derek had gone missing. Instead he resigned himself, as did the others, with phone calls. Right now though Stiles wanted to be in Gotham, hiding under his Uncle’s cape. Tim had returned home the second they got the news, Dick leaving with him. No one was able to do anything and neither Jason nor Stiles could return home. This was personal enough for the others, but hit to close to home for them. The Joker had nearly succeeded in getting another one of the Bat Clan, nearly succeeded in another death. That didn’t stop him from permanently disabling her. Barbara Gordon, the retired Batgirl, was now paralyzed. 

_ ~I’m the new Batgirl~  _ Stephanie said over the phone, who had answered it on the third time Stiles called.  _ ~I don’t know how to feel about it. Barbara told me to take it whenever I wanted, but… I was waiting to talk to you about you becoming Robin again. Batman needs Robin more than he needs Batgirl~ _

“What changed your mind?” Stiles asked, the normalcy of the phone call seeming out of place with all that was going on.

_ ~Barbara getting injured. I had been hoping she would come back… it seems weird that she can never take it up again. I’ve taken it up in honor of her. Besides, Robin has always been a boy. Batgirl is in the name~ _

“Hey, you being the only female Robin is pretty cool in itself.”

_ ~I’m also the first, don’t forget that.~ _

“I can’t with you always reminding me!”

Picking up the shotgun shells Stiles found in Derek’s loft, he began to study the seal on it. Argent had already told them who it was from, but Stiles wanted a bit more information before they went in. It was difficult, even with all his hacking skills, to find anything. The Calaveras were practically ghosts. Widely known hunters, once he got into the Dark Web at least, but with little actually  _ known _ about them. Sighing softly Stiles closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against the shell.

_ ~How are you doing? You know, with the whole possession… Allison and Aiden’s death… Jason and Bab’s injury… losing your boyfriend so soon after you all thought everything was calm.~  _ The sudden change in conversation threw him for a loop.

“What do you mean?”

_ ~There’s no way you’re actually okay, despite what you’re leading everyone to believe~ _

“I’m fine…”

_ ~I don’t even need to see you too know that’s a lie~ _

“Bart’s taking it worse than I am.”

_ ~Bart’s also only fourteen~ _

“He said he knew what was going to happen, but couldn’t stop it… that it would change to much for the pack.”

_ ~He is from the future. Besides, he might not know all the details. With around fifty years between now and then, he had no way of actually knowing what to do or how to stop it. When it happened, possibly not even a where.~ _

“That’s what we’ve been telling him. His nightmares are getting worse, he’s not even pretending to go to his room first.”

_ ~And you? How are you coping?~ _

“Better than Bart.”

_ ~I sincerely doubt that. Hey B! Guess who I’ve got on the phone.~  _ Stiles smiled a little, hearing a muffled reply.  _ ~That’s cheating. Hey Stiles, Bruce wants to talk to you. And there is no way you’re avoiding my mass texts demanding how you’re doing or else I’m gonna zeta over there and knock some sense into you~ _

“I look forward to it.”

There was some muffled movements over the phone and Stiles tapped the speaker button before setting his phone to the side. While he would love to fully pay attention to his uncle he had some research to do. Typing into the computer Stiles listened to the muffled conversation before hearing the sound of someone breathing over the phone.

“Hey,” Stiles said.

_ ~Any leads?~ _

“On Derek? Yeah, the Calaveras. They’re Mexican Hunters, widely respected but not much about them. Only issue is we don’t know what they want with him.”

_ ~Have you slept at all?~ _

“More than Tim.” In other words not at all.

_ ~Get some sleep. The case isn’t going anywhere.~ _

“Did you seriously just say that.”

Something lingered in the back of Stiles’ mind and he began to focus on it, a memory beginning to surface. It was in broken pieces, but slowly regained clarity. Due to the sudden surfacing of the memory Stiles missed what Uncle Bruce had replied. Frowning deeply Stiles turned away from the computer and returned the phone to it’s normal setting of it not being on speaker before lifting it to his ear.

“I have a question… when I was possessed Tim tried to use the inhibitor cuffs on the Nogitsune. Instead of affecting it, the cuffs affected me. I felt the drain but… I didn’t… It mentioned that you would know. What aren’t you telling me?” Stiles asked, his voice wavering.

_ ~Stiles…~ _

“Don’t Stiles me! Tell me!”

_ ~I don’t know. Not everything at least. We, Clark and I, suspected that there was something different about you. Zatara called it a Spark~ _

“Deaton said the same thing…”

_ ~We don’t know what it is, just assumed you had a little extra boost to yourself. Why?~ _

“I’ve felt… different almost since the Nogitsune possession.”

_ ~That’s not unusual~ _

“More than like PTSD or something,” Stiles replied, “It’s like something had awoken inside me. I don’t know how to explain it.”

_ ~Come home, we’ll figure it out~ _

“I can’t… I can’t leave Beacon Hills right now. Not with… everything that’s happening.”

_ ~Keep in contact okay? I’ll visit when I can, I promise~ _

Stiles smiled a little. “Alright, but call before or else you might come during a bad time.”

_ ~I’ve gotta go on patrol. Goodnight Stiles, get some sleep.” _

“Goodnight Uncle Bruce…”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: Long chapter, stressful chapter, emotional chapter.
> 
> Stiles: STEREK! STEREK! STEREK!
> 
> Me: Yep, they’re finally together. But they’ve been forced apart… teenage Derek is gonna be interesting.
> 
> Review Request Here ---> Sterek, Sterek, Sterek, yes!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: SORRY!! I left for Hawaii and didn’t get a lot of time to actually updated... I apologize.
> 
> Stiles: *waves* I’m still here though.
> 
> Me: Yeah, so now season 4!
> 
> Disclaimer Here ---> Liam’s mine. I’m unsure if I’m pairing him with Hayden or not since I started shipping him and Theo…
> 
> 3rd Person POV

 

Uncle Bruce was so going to kill him later for this. So were his brothers, once they got back at least. All of them were back in Gotham at the moment, Jason returning when he heard that Stiles was going on a ‘camping’ trip with the pack. If only they knew it wasn’t a camping trip and actually them going on a rescue mission to bring back Derek. While it would’ve been easier to have them there, Stiles also knew that the pack would argue heavily against their involvement. Probably some weird proving themselves thing and Stiles was still mentally exhausted, especially since he was beginning to show weird abilities recently. None of them necessarily a big issue, just minor things here and there, but it was starting to freak him out. Especially since none of them seemed related. It was almost like his spark was trying to settle on something, one single ability. One time he moved something out of the way of hitting Jaime, another time he set fire to a math assignment that was frustrating him, and most recently he had felt Bart’s anxiousness about something. 

“This plan is the stupidest plan we’ve ever come up with,” Cassie hissed in his ear, “It’s going to get someone killed.”

“I don’t think it’s the stupidest plan,” Stiles replied, playing with the card in his pocket, “I think the sending Bart in as a prostitute that one mission was a bad idea.”

“You think you would’ve been a better prostitute?”

“I would’ve made an amazing prostitute.”

Their way inside was blocked by two burly men. It took barely a minute for Stiles to know all their weaknesses and judge that they were only out here as a scare tactic. Would’ve worked too if they weren’t superheroes, but Cassie clung to his arm anyways. Sighing softly he pulled out a card, one that Argent had given them before he left. It was big with a stylized skull on it, right in the center. Glancing towards his right Stiles lifted the card up to the camera, hearing the gentle buzz before the door opened. The two walked in without another glance around them. Inside the building they walked down a dark hallway.

“I still think this is a stupid plan,” Cassie repeated.

“I’m not arguing,” Stiles agreed.

“Someone saw us, they’re warning their leader.”

“Doesn’t matter, we expected this remember. Let’s just do what we need too.”

Stopping in front of the bar, Stiles and Cassie got two shot glasses pushed to them. There was a brief second when they looked at each other, did they really look old enough to drink?, before turning back. Cassie reached into her pocket and pulled out the brass bullet, which had the same stylized skull carved into it as on the card. Sliding it onto the counter she looked the man in the eye.

“We didn’t come here too drink,” Cassie said, blue eyes narrowed at the man.

The next thing Stiles knew, after memorizing the path they took to get there, they were sitting in front of an older woman. She was clearly trying to look intimidating, using a small curved blade as a seam ripper while ignoring them. For now Stiles would stay quiet, even if Superman was more intimidating than this lady. That was saying something as well, then again even Bumblebee was more intimidating. Needless to say, this lady was nowhere close to intimidating. Even Cassie didn’t look scared of her.

“Severo hates the music,” the lady, Araya, commented, “I love the music of the youth, it has a savage energy.”

Honestly she was just trying to hard. If it was anyone but him or one of the other teenage superheroes they’d probably be slightly intimidated. Then again, they’ve never met Batman. Well… they technically did but he was Bruce then so it doesn’t count. At least, not in Stiles’ opinion. Had he forgotten to take his Adderall again today? That must be the third day in a row. Sh*t he couldn’t get distracted now.

“We know you have Derek,” Cassie said.

“We have a suspicion you have Derek,” Stiles corrected, cutting in, “All signs are pointing to you. We’re offering a trade.”

Reaching into his pocket Stiles pulled out fifty thousand US dollars, setting them in front of Araya. To most people she would look unaffected, but Stiles saw the gleam in her eyes at the sight of the money. How her entire body tensed in order to restrain herself from showing any physical reaction to the money. This was going to be too easy, if they had Derek. Something here didn’t seem right, it seemed off. However they couldn’t dismiss any lead. They had something to do with Derek’s disappearance. 

“You took that money from Silverfinger,” Araya spat.

Well, she wasn’t wrong. In order to keep this mission covert, though Stiles was fairly certain his Uncle at least knew about it, they hadn’t borrowed any money from Stiles’ trust fund. Then again, that also made it clear she didn’t know about Stiles’ status as nephew and adopted son of Bruce Wayne. Araya had just jumped to the conclusion that it was Silverfinger’s (they had removed any and all markings from the money, the only thing she had to go on was them taking it from Silverfinger). That thought further cemented when the weapons from the other hunters were raised and cocked. However Stiles and Cassie remained unaffected, Cassie looking utterly bored and Stiles ready to attack if necessary. 

“You were not smart to come alone,” Araya said, returning back to her clothes.

“I wouldn’t say that,” Stiles replied glancing over at Cassie.

The others were all around somewhere. Bart was ready to vibrate through the walls at a moment’s notice, being too young to be in the club in the first place, Jaime mingling on the dancefloor with Lydia, Kira sitting along the wall with a random group of men, and lastly Scott standing in the corner of the dancefloor. They were all in position ready at a moment’s notice.

“You brought a wolf into my home?” Araya asked insulted.

“I’m sure you had a few before we brought ours,” Cassie replied, “And he’s not just any old wolf.”

“You have poor timing. The dark moon is coming.”

“The Dark Moon?”

“It’s the part of the lunar phase when the moon is least visible in the sky. Not only that but it’s also a time of reflection and mourning,” Stiles explained.

“I wonder why Scott and your pack have suffered so much loss, you would risk yourselves again for someone like Derek,” Araya asked.

Stiles had to restrain himself from attacking her. Obviously she didn’t know how pack’s, or even families, work. No matter who it is, if it’s the weakest link or the strongest member, you go after them. You risk yourselves for them. Every life is precious. If they need you, you go. It’s what makes a superhero a superhero. 

“We don’t like to lose,” Stiles hissed, Cassie having squeezed his knee gently.

There was a buzzing from the radios, different hunters checking in from different points. Quietly, Stiles tapped Cassie’s knee before cupping his hand like he was listening in on something. There was a subtle tap back to show she understood. Silence reigned before Cassie smirked a little.

“Take ten off the table, Stiles. They’re not playing nice,” Cassie told him.

One stack was removed and tucked into Stiles’ pocket. Negotiations were always difficult, Stiles probably knew that better than anyone. In their group at least, Uncle Bruce and Tim would both beat him in a landslide. 

“You don’t know where Derek is do you?” Stiles asked, “If you did you wouldn’t be stalling so much.”

“Stiles, Bart’s inside,” Cassie hissed to him in warning.

“I think we should let ourselves out now, don’t you agree Cassie?”

Scooping up the rest of the money, ignoring Araya stabbing the knife in front of his hand as he did so, Stiles stuffed it in his pocket and got to his feet. Besides him Cassie followed his lead. The safety’s in the guns around them turned off and Stiles slipped two throwing stars in his hand. In the mirror Stiles caught sight of Araya lifting the radio, clearly knowing Stiles could see her. She made a show of pushing down the button.

“Severo, show them how the Calaveras negotiate.”

Cursing in his mind, Stiles suddenly flung out the throwing stars as Cassie roundhoused kicked the hunter behind her. One throwing star hit the wall and turned green, the guns flying towards it due to the magnetic pull. The other hit a tendon in one of the hunter’s hands, forcing him to drop the gun anyways. Pulling out his whip Stiles lashed it at the hunter, wrapping it around his ankle and yanking it close. The hunter went down hard and Stiles silently felt bad before kicking at another hunter.

“Araya is gone!” Cassie shouted at him, ducking a fist before moving towards Stiles, putting them back to back.

“Worry about them now,” Stiles replied, sending his whip towards the right and wrapping it around a random knick-knack before hitting the knick-knack against a hunter’s head.

Some sort of gas began to fill the room and Stiles reached for the breather. But the gas was filling at an unusually fast rate and Stiles held his breath. Cassie began to cough behind him and Stiles turned in fear, fumbling around for his breather. The lack of oxygen was beginning to make him lightheaded, but he quickly found it. However in his haze he hadn’t noticed Araya sneaking up behind him until it was too late, the electric cattle prod hitting him in the back and shocking him into breathing in the gas. It filled his lungs and his eyesight began to get blurry before darkening. Then everything went black.

He was one of the first to wake up, Bart being the very first. The youngest was hovering over Jaime, who looked to be injured the worst out of everyone. There was some blood staining his hairline, a bruise forming on his cheek, one arm looking at least sprained if not broken, and a bleeding gash on his leg. Briefly Stiles wondered what happened to Khaji before realizing that Jaime probably refused to let the scarab cover him with the armor, wanting to conceal their identities. It was a good plan, even if it helped him get injured.

“Put pressure on his wound Bart,” Stiles said, mind beginning to clear and focus, “How bad is it bleeding?”

“Bad,” Bart replied, his voice a little shaky but the speedster followed his directions and pressed his hands against the wound.

Feeling around for his utility belt Stiles sighed in relief, feeling it hanging low on his hips. Low enough that they wouldn’t bother checking. Then again it was clear they underestimated them all, even after the fights. Though Stiles didn’t have his whip anymore, which he would be going to get later. Now that Stiles confirmed having his weapons he took in his surroundings. They were in a filthy public bathroom, there were some medical supplies by the door. Scott was propped up unconscious against a pole, Kira laid under the sinks, Cassie near the door, and Lydia wasn’t in here. Most likely she was with the Calaveras. Banshees that hadn’t gone insane were rare, extremely rare. Probably one of the rarest creatures out there. 

Pulling himself to his feet Stiles grabbed the medical supplies before kneeling down besides Bart and Jaime. First things first, check the obvious wound, the gash on his right leg. It rain from the meat of his upper thigh, close to his outer hip, before running down and across his thigh and cutting into his calf. The only consolation was that it hadn’t cut behind his knee into the tendons and ligaments there, even if it was a near miss. However Jaime would need stitches. The hunters had only given them bandages and antiseptic, no sort of weapons here. 

“He needs stitches doesn’t he?” Bart asked.

“Yeah,” Stiles replied softly, tearing off Jaime’s pant leg, “But they didn’t give us any.”   
“I can probably run through the door and get some.”

“If you’re going to do that you might as well run Jaime to the hospital. But we can’t risk our identities for this.”

“He’s going to die without them!”

“He won’t, I’m not going to let him okay? Stay focused Bart. Who’s missing here?”

While Bart scanned the room Stiles began to clean out the gash on Jaime’s leg. The sting of the antiseptic forced Jaime awake with a startled cry, lashing out at Stiles. Having expected this Stiles quickly grabbed the elder’s wrist, waiting silently for him to regain his bearing before calming. Without another word Stiles continued to pour the antiseptic into Jaime’s wound, watching it bubble and the dirt and grim run down his leg. This bathroom was far from sanitary and infection was a serious concern right now.

“Lydia, where is she?” Bart was sitting by Jaime’s side, holding his hand gently.

“The Calaveras, they have her. A banshee that hasn’t gone insane is rare, one this young even rarer. My guess is that they want information from her,” Stiles replied, lifting Jaime’s leg up and gently sponging the excess liquid off around his wound, not willing to get this dirty cloth anywhere near the gash.

There was a groan behind them, cluing them in to Kira stirring. The dark haired female sat up, rubbing her head before her eyes flung wide. None of the male superheroes paid her any attention. Earlier Stiles had run his eyes over everyone, checking for any injuries. Other than being unconscious and a few bruises from falling to the ground she was okay, much like the others except Jaime. If Bart had any major injuries they were healed by now, hopefully with nothing inside that could be harmful to his health later on.

“I’m going to start wrapping your leg now Jaime, we’re gonna have to get you stitches when we can,” Stiles said, “It’s going to be tight and you can’t itch it okay?”

Instead of responding Jaime nodded, resting his head back against the wall behind them. Pressing the gauze against Jaime’s wound, having Bart hold it in place as they hadn’t been given any medical tape to stick it down, Stiles began to wrap it as tight as he could. Without any stitches to keep the wound close, wrapping it tightly would help keep him from bleeding out. Already Jaime was pale and clammy, some sweat beginning to form on his forehead. As soon as they got out of there they’d need to get him to a hospital, he’d need stitches and probably a blood transfusion. Once he was done with that Stiles tied it off, tucking the loose end into the rest of the wrap.

“That’s all I can do for now,” Stiles said.

“Feels better already hermano,” Jaime tried to comfort, giving a weak smile.   
“You idiot, why didn’t you put on the armor,” Bart hissed at him.

“Secret ID’s, remember?”

“It’s not more important than your life.”

Tears were starting to prick Bart’s eyes and Jaime squeezed the younger boy’s hand. Swallowing softly Stiles gently checked Jaime’s head, checking his face for any signs of discomfort. It seemed that the blood was only from a minor cut, but his head was obviously tender. There was no more bleeding so Stiles didn’t deem the injury necessary to put more bandages on. Who knew if they would give them more medical supplies any time soon. So far they hadn’t seemed very welcoming.

“He okay?” Cassie asked, joining them.

“If we get him stitches he should be. Can you hear anything from upstairs?” Stiles demanded.

“No, well I can hear stuff but nothing from Lydia. Not even her heartbeat. I can’t hear Araya either.”

“They’re not in here. In my future Araya was trying to figure out Lydia’s powers, kept her alive,” Bart whispered, “But who knows what’s been changed.”

“Do you remember how we got out in the future?” Stiles asked softly.

“They let you go.”

Frowning, Stiles was about to ask him to be more specific when Scott let out a groan. Immediately Kira was by his side, letting him know about Lydia. Gently wiping his bloody hands off on his shirt, who knew how bad the water was in the pipes (or if there was water at all), Stiles got to his feet and went to help Scott. Cassie followed him whereas Bart stayed close to Jaime, practically vibrating with worry.

Almost as soon as Scott felt strong enough he went to pry open the door. Watching silently, deciding it was better just to let Scott try and figure out that they wouldn’t be able to leave yet. Besides, this was the same way Bruce taught him a lot of things. Then again, unlike Dick, Stiles hadn’t been part of a Failsafe exercise that was designed to fail. They hadn’t tried that again after the first failed attempt (though Stiles felt that they should do it sometime, even if it had ended badly for the first group) so Stiles had never actually experienced it before. 

“Others have already tried,” Bart pointed out, “Look at all the scratches and dents in it.”

“We need Conner here if we actually want to break down the door,” Jaime groaned, “But you’re welcome to try ese.”

“I think we’d need Conner, Cassie, and Scott to break it down,” Stiles sighed.

“Well we have two of three,” Scott replied.

“No, we stay here. Lydia is still up there, we don’t know what will happen to her if we escape. Besides, escaping with Jaime like this this is almost impossible,” Cassie pointed out.

“Can’t Bart carry him?”   
“I’m fast, not strong.”

Still leaning against the pillar, Stiles watched as Scott turned around towards them looking exasperated. The door began to move behind him and Stiles opened his mouth to warn him. Before any word could slip past his lips, Scott was shocked by a cattle prod. One of the men tossed something towards Stiles, who fumbled and caught it. Once he looked up Stiles noticed that Kira was getting pulled out the door as well. They were all left behind, only the teenage superheroes left behind.

“What is it?” Cassie demanded, looking at the little box in Stiles’ hand.

Opening the box, Stiles sighed in relief at the sight of a stitching kit. It gave him something to do, instead of pace constantly. Kneeling besides Jaime’s side, Stiles peeled off the wrap and the bandages. Using the clean side of the bandage he poured some antiseptic onto the needle and cleaned it off. Fingering the needle in his hand, finding the thread already on, Stiles looked up at Jaime sitting up.

“This is gonna sting,” Stiles warned.

“Just do it already,” Jaime groaned, clutching Bart’s hand.

So Stiles began, piercing the needle through Jaime’s darker skin and pulling it up, The amount of times he’d done this were many, this just adding one more. This also wasn’t the worst injury, the worst circumstances, that he’d ever had to deal with. Occasionally he had to tug a bit harder, just to get the thread through. It was methodical and almost therapeutic in a sense, helping his brain calm and focus on this one thing. Pierce, tug, pull, pierce, tug, pull. Over and over again until he finished. There he tied off the thread and poured antiseptic over the newly stitched injury. Then he dried off the leg around it with a cloth, put on new clean bandages, before wrapping it up.

“Done,” Stiles announced, sitting up.

“I can hear them,” Cassie said, from her position near the front door.

“And?”

“They were torturing Scott, trying to get a name out of him. He said Kate, Kate Argent.”

“Kate?” An incredulous Jaime asked, “But she’s dead. Right?”

This time they all looked at Bart. The youngest seemed to shrink in on himself, untangling his hand from Jaime. It was enough confirmation that Stiles turned and punched the pillar behind him. Why was it no one could seem to stay dead? The pillar cracked slightly underneath his fist, a few shards raining down around him. On his knuckles the skin cracked, but there was no blood welling up around it.

“No,” Bart’s voice was small, “I couldn’t be sure if she had survived this time around or not. Either way I couldn’t intervene… there’s way too many things that would change otherwise.”

“You should have told us,” Stiles replied, clenching his fists.

“And risk changing the future?”   
“It’s already changed!” Stiles turned around, trying to reign in his temper. But with everything that’s happened… he couldn’t help it. “Everything is already different! Tell me Bart! Did my Dad die in your future?! Did he die in Gotham! WHEN I WAS EIGHT!”

“Stiles…” Even Jaime looked terrified, Bart shrinking in on himself while staring at him wide-eyed.

Glancing down, breathing shakily, Stiles noticed why they were so scared. There was some kind of… glow around his body. The lights were flickering in the room. Blinking he looked up, watching as a silver wavelength of sorts connected the flickering lights too the energy (what else could it be) around his body. Once it connected to the energy it began to shift colors to the grey around him.

“Stiles…” Jaime called, “Wh-what?”

“You’re a meta-human!” Bart exclaimed.   
“I don’t…” Calm now, well relatively, Stiles watched as the wavelength stream was broken and the energy around him began to settle in. Only a few wispy strands stayed outside his body, but Stiles didn’t know how to return it to the source. 

Before Stiles could ponder it further, what had the Nogitsune done to him?, the door in front opened. The three supernatural’s stood there, the hunters behind them. All the excess energy around Stiles dissipated, leaving him unsure as to where it went. Only moments later the lights brightened and Stiles frowned, not having felt the return of the energy to the source. Forcing himself out of his stupor Stiles went to help Bart pull up Jaime, ignoring the little flinch from Bart. Throwing his arm over his shoulder, Stiles and Bart led Jaime out of the cell and up the stairs.

“I’ve hired Braeden to be your guide to La Iglesia. That’s where Kate was last seen. You are to find her, capture her, return her to us,” Araya ordered.

“Why should we do what you say?” Stiles demanded.

“Stiles,” Bart whispered, almost warning.

“It’s in your best interest. After all Kate has your boyfriend Mr. Stilinski,” Araya replied.

A small flush started to spread across his face, ducking his head slightly. By his side Jaime’s knees buckled slightly and Stiles grunted under the increase of weight. 

“Let’s just get going,” Stiles grumbled, “Spread Jaime out in the back. We’re gonna have to squeeze.”

As the others followed the directions Stiles got in the front seat. The others found their respected spots. Jaime lay on Bart, Cassie, and Kira’s laps (all scrunched in the back) with his head on Bart and feet on Cassie. There was a quiet moment where Bart whispered softly to Jaime, petting his dark hair back. Lydia and Scott joined him up from, Scott sitting right beside him. If they found Derek, Stiles supposed he could have Cassie fly above them or Bart run back. Then again if they succeeded in capturing Kate it was highly probable that both of them would need to get kicked out, though they could always put Kate in the trunk. Speaking of.

“Did they tell you how Kate survived?” Stiles demanded.

“Kate was never in the casket at her funeral,” Scott began to explain softly, “The Calaveras came by to see if she was actually dead, but her body was healing her. So they took her body and locked her up in the room we had been. As the hunter’s code, they tried to get her to kill herself. Instead she faked her death and killed six of her captors in escaping.”   
“Does that mean she’s a werewolf?” Cassie asked, first looking at the three in the front seat before looking at Bart.

“I don’t know. The shape you take reflects who you are.”   
“Like with Jackson,” Stiles sighed.

Something hit the jeep, causing them to screech to a halt and only Stiles superb driving skills kept them from crashing. There was a cry of pain from Jaime and Stiles winced. In front of them Braeden in the motorcycle turned around, skidding to a stop in front of the jeep. Glancing at Scott, Stiles and him climbed out, Cassie joining them. 

“What happened?” Braeden demanded.

“Something hit us. You and Scott continue on, we’ll fix the jeep and follow,” Stiles replied.

“It’s to dangerous after dark.”

“We can protect ourselves, this isn’t our first rodeo. Now get going, if it takes too long I’ll send Bart or Cassie your way.”

Obviously not liking it, Braeden agreed. Returning back to the jeep, Stiles popped up the hood. Only moments later, after an awkward exchange between Kira and Scott that Stiles would rather not repeat, did the motorcycle roar off again. Frowning Stiles studied the hood. There was nothing wrong in the engine. Grabbing the flashlight he got on his back and scooted under, growling at what he saw. There was a bone, a large claw, embedded in the wheel well.

“Cassie I’m gonna need your help,” Stiles said.

“What is it?”

“A bone, a claw, in the wheel well. Yank it out would you?”

Turning his head to the right, Stiles saw Cassie’s blue eyes. She studied the bone for a second before wrapping her hands around it and yanking it out. There was a loud screech and Stiles winced. Once it was out he checked too make sure there wasn’t too much damage, only a few scratches, before he pushed himself out.

“Turn it over Lydia, should be good now,” Stiles ordered.

All he got was sputtering. Growling softly Stiles glared down at the car, reopening the hood. Putting the flashlight between his mouth Stiles began to dig into the car. Everything seemed fine, he should know, so maybe it was gas? But he filled up the tank before they left and there was no sign of any leaks. There was no way he was going to pull Bart away from Jaime to make sure either.

Speaking of, “Hey Bart. How’s Jaime doing?”

For a few moments there was only silence, “He’s awake. There’s no fever so he doesn’t have an infection. He says he’s tired.”

“Don’t let him sleep. He might have a concussion.”

A few more seconds of silence, probably a conversation between the two. “He says Khaji says he doesn’t have a concussion.”

“What does the scarab know anyways?”

“...more than you apparently.”

“Just don’t let him sleep. At least until we know from a source that doesn’t share a body with the possible concussed.”

“Crash.”

That sounded sarcastic. Re-focusing his entire attention on the car in front of him Stiles moved a few things around. Maybe something was just slightly out of alignment. Stiles just really hoped they didn’t need a jumpstart. He wasn’t certain if the energy thing from earlier really was what his spark, he couldn’t be a metahuman since he hadn’t been exposed to the thing that awoke their abilities anyways (unless a Nogitsune counted as awakening it, or the foxfire), had decided to settle on. Though he could sometimes feel the energy surging underneath his body and he feared what that might mean.

“Try it again.”

Another try, Cassie and Kira both behind him in protective stances. Everyone could feel the fact they weren’t alone and Stiles just wanted to get the jeep started. Jaime was in no condition to fight, much less protect himself. None of them really were, and they couldn’t risk it. The car didn’t turn over and Stiles cussed loudly, slamming his hand on the engine. There was a flash of swirling white and black energy around his hand. Without needing to turn the key the car started.  A whooping cheer escaped his lips and he shut the hood, returning back to the car. Everyone returned to their respective spots and they peeled towards La Iglesia. 

It seemed they were too late to help, however, as when they stopped outside the headlights shone on three figures. Jumping out of the jeep Stiles gaped at the person in front of him. He’d only seen it in pictures, but there was no way it was possible. Then again the entire Justice League had been de-aged before (that was fun) but this wasn’t the same enemy. Kneeling in front of him, Stiles gently touched the younger boy’s cheek. There was no way. This couldn’t be…

“Derek?” Stiles whispered.

The younger Derek looked up at him, brows scrunched together, “Why do you smell like my mate?” Then Derek passed out.

That was soooo a talk for later. 

**_*************BATWOLF*************_ **

Rain was pouring outside, Stiles inside the veterinarian's office with the others. On the observation table was Jaime, Bart sitting besides him holding his hand. The teenage version of his boyfriend was sleeping on Stiles’ shoulder, looking more peaceful than he has ever looking as long as Stiles had known him. Brushing his thumb gently over the back of Derek’s hand Stiles held back a snicker. Here was his boyfriend, who was a good few years older than him, now back as a teenager and probably in the middle of puberty. That meant his voice would probably crack and boy that would be funny.

“Leave him here until he wakes up. I’ll watch him. The rest of you should go home and get some rest. It is a school night after all. Mr. Garcia here is fit to go home, who did the stitches?” Everyone looked at Stiles. Deaton appraised him, “Good job. He should remain home for a few days however. That leg will be very painful.”   
“Thanks Deaton,” Scott said.

“I’m not leaving Derek,” Stiles growled, “My family and I have dealt with age regression before. We can take care of him.”

“Mr. Stilinski, I believe it would be best if he woke somewhere he recognized with people he knows,” Deaton replied.

“He said I smell like his mate.” The lights began to flicker ominisouly. Derek began to stir and Stiles calmed himself. “From what I know of mates and the like it would be best for him to stay with me and my scent. My house smells like me. Not to mention, knowing you, you’d think it best to not tell him anything. Let me tell you, that only causes more issues. He won’t be able to feel his pack bonds, any of them. This will disorient him and confuse him, I can calm him.”

Silence reigned around them, even Bart was silent. Maybe Stiles was changing something from Bart’s future, but he didn’t care. The hard gaze from Deaton did nothing to waver or weaken his resolve. Then the vet seemed to think some, looking somewhat unshaken. 

“Why don’t you do that here, at the animal clinic. We have no idea what the effects are on a werewolf,” Deaton reminded him.

Dammit, he was right. Sighing softly Stiles nodded, gently lifting Derek in his arms. Normally he would not be able to do this (it was always the other way around) but with Derek the age and size he currently was made it easier. Frowning at the operating table, definitely not a good place to set him as it was cold and hard, Stiles glanced over at Deaton. He had heard the others leave and knew they were alone. 

“Do you have anything soft we can lay him on. I don’t think an operating table is very comfortable,” Stiles said softly, as though not to wake the sleeping werewolf in his arms.

“I’ve got a few blankets,” Deaton replied, leaving the room.

The vet returned a few seconds later and Stiles laid all the blankets but one on the table, having set Derek back down on the blanket. Honestly he was surprised the werewolf slept through all this jostling. Removing his red hoodie, Stiles balled it up into a makeshift pillow and set it near the top of the table. Picking Derek back up, Stiles set him on the operating table and put the extra blanket over the young werewolf. Hopefully this was more comfortable. Then, like Bart had done with Jaime, Stiles pulled up a chair and entangled one of Derek’s hands in his own.

“Get some rest, I’ll wake you if anything happens,” Deaton said.

“Fine.”

It felt like minutes, but was probably hours, later Stiles woke to a gentle hand on his shoulder. Blinking awake slowly Stiles looked up at Deaton. The vet wasn’t by his side anymore, now on the other side of Derek checking his heart rate. Squinting his eyes Stiles sat up, squeezing Derek’s hand gently and brushing some of his hair out of his face.

“His heart rate is alarmingly high,” Deaton muttered.

“It could be a nightmare,” Stiles told him, continuing to smooth the werewolves forehead gently.

As Stiles suspected, the vet ignored him. Instead he grabbed a scalpel, ignoring Stiles angry noise. Before Stiles could stop him Deaton cut into Derek’s skin. Even as the cut continued up the alpha’s arm, it healed behind it. Now Stiles wasn’t an expert on werewolf biology, but even a speedster didn’t heal that quickly. That meant something was wrong. However Stiles was fairly certain that in a rush of adrenaline moment, such as a nightmare, speedster’s can heal as quickly as they are injured. 

“I’m going to try something,” Deaton muttered, moving away.

“What are you going to try? He’s not a lab rat!” Stiles hissed.

While Deaton looked for a syringe, Derek jolted awake. The werewolves eyes were an icy blue, Stiles starting at the sight (Derek was an alpha they should be blood red), with his claws out. Instead of backing up, Stiles moved forward. There was a moment when all the air from Stiles whooshed out of his lungs. The look in Derek’s eyes was wild, almost feral, there was nothing of Derek in there. Confusion crossed Derek’s face as he looked at Stiles, growling at him warningly. However Stiles could see the confusion in Derek’s face, the way his nose twitched at his scent. Yet there was the threat there, so Stiles treated him like any easily startled animal. Hands raised in a placating gesture, calm tone of voice. But Deaton ruined that. The vet came at Derek with a syringe and Derek responded at the threat. Lashing out with his claws, fangs elongated, Derek attacked the vet.

“Derek!” Stiles exclaimed, hand out in an almost submissive manner.

A clawed hand wound around his wrist, tugging him out of the vets office. There was no threat from this, Stiles could sense it. The way Derek was acting was instinctive. Stiles was his mate, Deaton was a threat. It was protective. There was no danger to Stiles, anyone that might be a danger to him would get attacked. So Stiles let himself get dragged along, watching as Derek slowly returned to himself. The claws that were lightly scratching his wrist, creating little cuts, slowly returned to normal human nails. Sideburns on his face retreated back in, the fangs in his mouth retreating, and lastly the icy blue eyes slowly returning to Derek’s hazel.

“Derek?” Stiles asked, recognizing the way they were going.

Recently the city had wanted to tear down the Hale House. Surprisingly Derek, the older Derek, didn’t say anything about this. However Stiles had reached out to his Uncle, explained what was going on, and Uncle Bruce bought the land. It was supposed to be a surprise to the older Derek as (with Cora and Peter’s help) they were rebuilding the house to exactly how it was before the fire. Even getting the replicas of the furniture that was inside the house. It wasn’t finished yet, the rebuilding still taking place, but the furniture and some duplicates of the pictures on the wall that Cora and Peter (and some of Derek’s that Stiles found) were in storage. Right now there was a chain link fence surrounding the work sight, which Derek tore open in confusion.

“Don’t worry, we’ll be safe. Mom will take care of us.” However Derek didn’t look utterly convinced, biting his lip immediately after his sentence.

“Derek there’s something I need to tell you,” Stiles continued walking, letting Derek tug him along.

“You can tell it to me and my mom when we get home.”

Frowning, Stiles tried to object again. Before he could Derek stopped suddenly and Stiles changed his gaze from Derek to the scene in front of him. Where the Hale House once stood was the beginning of the rebuilt Hale House. The foundation was laid out, there were a few walls and the beginning of the second floor. However for the most part, all that was there was a skeleton of the house. In front of him Derek collapsed to his knees.

“Derek.” Stiles knelt by his side. “I need to tell you-”

“You aren’t allowed to be here,” Deputy Haigh (an asshole of a deputy and half the time Stiles wanted to punch his face in) said. “This is a work sight.”

“It’s my house,” Derek growled.

“Are you a dumbass or something? I told you to get out of here. You too Stilinski. I don’ care if you’re the Sheriff’s brother. Get outta here.”

“Calm down Haigh, the kid’s just lost. And it’s Stilinski’s Uncle rebuilding this house, he’s allowed to be here,” Deputy Parrish said, “You know Bruce Wayne correct?”

“I know who his Uncle is! I ain’t a dumbass like that kid!”

Glaring at Deputy Haigh, Stiles stayed knelt by Derek. The shift was beginning to take place in Derek, simmering beneath the surface but staying locked up due to Stiles’ presence. Before Stiles could retort Parrish rounded on Haigh. 

“Go back to the cruiser.” When Haigh looked ready to argue Parrish gained a deadly look in his eyes. “Now.”

Angrily, Haigh returned to the cruiser. In his arms Derek seemed to shake with suppressed sobs. The confusion was practically wafting off of him, even as he clung to Stiles desperately. How young was Derek? He couldn’t be older than a sophomore, and that was pushing it. Something had clearly happened close to this age, otherwise Kate wouldn’t have regressed him back to it. Before Stiles could think any deeper Parrish knelt down in front of him.

“What’s going on Stiles? I can help if you need,” Parrish said.

“What happened to my house, my family, my mom!” Derek demanded before Stiles could say anything. 

Out of the corner of his eye Stiles saw a hand reach out and grab Derek. The werewolf grabbed Haigh’s arm tight enough for the man to let go. However before anyone could react, Stiles having to remind himself that he’s supposed to be a weak rich kid, Haigh grabbed his taser. Stiles shouted out and Haigh jabbed it in Derek’s side and chest. Immediately the werewolf seized. When Stiles rushed to the younger version of his boyfriend Haigh stabbed him with the taser as well. Arching upwards in pain, feeling the electricity fill him, Stiles fell to the ground. The energy of the electricity was filling him in the most painful way imaginable, as it was getting forced into him. 

“HAIGH!!!” Parrish exclaimed, knocking the taser out of the deputies hand, “CRUISER NOW!”

“They’re trespassing on private property!” Haigh shouted back. “They’re criminals!”

“He was with Wayne’s kid, who owns the property! That’s not trespassing!”

“Put them in the cruiser Parrish. I’ll explain to Sheriff Todd what happened.”

Stiles’ jerked a few times, the energy swirling around angrily inside him. It hurt, god did it hurt. Parrish lifted Stiles up and helped Derek to his feet. The two were put in the back of the cruiser, Stiles leaning against Derek. Everything seemed to much, Stiles seeing what he believed to be aura’s. Haigh’s was a dark red, almost black, practically oozing off of him. Then there was Parrish’s, red’s and orange’s, with some yellow’s in there. It flickered off of him like flames, encasing his whole figure. Derek’s looked to be tampered with, a few corrupted black intermingling a rich purple. The black seemed to be overtaking him, eating away at the aura. Stiles couldn’t see his own. Everything was practically humming, anything with energy bright in his eyes. 

“You’re in pain,” Derek murmured, taking his hand, “The taser hurt you. Haigh hurt you.”

Stiles only shut his eyes tightly. Then the pain seemed to get leeched away from him, the energy leaving as well. A soft sigh escaped his lips once it got to manageable level and the leech disappeared. Opening his eyes slightly Stiles no longer saw the auras. By this time they were at the Sheriff’s station and Haigh roughly manhandled them to a bench, handcuffing them. Huffing softly Stiles picked the lock, but left the handcuff on to give Haigh his powerplay.

“I’ll be back to run your fingerprints,” Haigh growled.

“I want my lawyer,” Stiles replied evenly, raising an eyebrow, “Or even better my brother.”

“You don’t get anything.”

“I’ll tell my uncle you said that.”

Growling, Haigh walked away. Sighing Parrish glanced over at the two. Wasn’t Parrish higher up then Haigh? If Stiles remembered right he was. Then why wasn’t Parrish taking control here? There was obviously something fishy going on, which made sense if Stiles learned anything from the GPD. They were awful and so corrupted. Stiles was broken out of his thought when a hand roughly grabbed his hand and forced his finger on the pad. Struggling against Haigh, noticing Derek rubbing his wrist to his left (Haigh had taken his fingerprints already apparently), Stiles decided to scream. Even Parrish looked startled but since no one was getting his brother Stiles needed too. Derek narrowed his eyes at Haigh, who had stepped back in shock. The door to the Sheriff’s office opened wildly.   
“What the fuck is going on here?!” Jason demanded, stepping out.   
“I’m getting manhandled that’s what,” Stiles snapped, “He’s lucky I didn’t scream rape.”   
“Now see here you little shit,” Haigh started.

“Haigh, my office now. Stay there and don’t touch anything. You’re on thin ice as it is. Parrish, get those handcuffs off. Stiles tell me what is going on,” Jason ordered.

“Sir!” 

“NOW!”

Metaphorical tail between his legs Haigh rushed into the Sheriff’s office. A small smirk crossed Stiles face as the rest of the office went back to their respective duties, whispers filling the air. Even as adults people didn’t stop gossiping. Taking his hand out of the handcuffs Stiles began the story, letting the teenage Derek check him over once the werewolf had rid himself of the handcuffs. There were a few codewords thrown in here and there too communicate beyond just Parrish being there.

“I’ll be right back, you stay right here. Parrish, get rid of the fingerprints but send the records to me. Haigh was outta line,” Jason patted his shoulder, “And we’re talking more later Stiles.”

“Got it,” Stiles sighed.

While Jason was ripping a new one into Haigh, who left the office only minutes later glaring at Stiles and with his badge and gun gone, Scott and Lydia rushed into the room. It was clear that Cassie and Bart were probably staying at home with Jaime (who was probably still recovering). Waiting a few seconds for Jason to give the signal, Stiles got up and herded Derek to the door. Unsurprisingly Scott and Lydia followed, standing by the office door when Stiles and Derek sat on the chairs near the desk. Jason leaned against the wall behind his desk.

“So, we doing time travel now or what?” Jason demanded.

“No, more like a tomb of wolfsbane in an Aztec temple in Mexico underneath a church in the middle of a town that was destroyed by an earthquake,” Stiles replied, arms crossed across his chest.

“What?!” Derek demanded.

“You said you were camping!” Jason exclaimed.

“We were, I didn’t specify where,” Stiles said with a shrug, “It turned out to be Mexico.”

“God, Stiles. Why didn’t you get backup with one of us?” 

Stiles just lowered his head and didn’t reply. By his side Derek looked between all of them, looking extremely wary of Scott and Lydia. Scooting subtly closer to Stiles, Derek kept one eye on the supernatural duo and the other on Jason. Sighing softly Stiles took Derek’s hand and held it gently, helping keep the werewolf calm.

“Doesn’t matter now,” Stiles said before looking over at Derek, “You need to listen to me Der. You’ve regressed in age, before you were around twenty something. I think you lost your memories too, but obviously some stuff is still there. If you didn’t you wouldn’t have protected me against what you perceived a threat.”

“You smell like my mate,” Derek whispered, “But I don’t remember you.”

“Because we’re together when you’re… your normal age. You never did tell me I was your mate though. Anyways, we’re going to fix this. We’ve dealt this before.”   
“You have?”   
“Well, Jay and I have.”

“What happened to my family?” Derek asked softly, looking down at where Stiles and his hands were intertwined.

“There was a fire, that’s why the house is getting rebuilt.”   
“And my family?”

“I’m sorry. Cora and Peter are the only ones still alive, Cora is in South America and Peter isn’t exactly… one hundred percent sane right now. He’s better than he was at least.”

“My mom? Laura? My Dad?”

“Derek I’m sorry…”

The teenage version of his boyfriend threw himself in his arms. Sobs tore through his throat and Stiles wrapped his arms around the physically younger boy. Looking at Jason above his boyfriend’s head, Stiles held him closer. Jason was frowning slightly, grabbing his phone from the desk and quickly texting someone. Sniffing the werewolf pulled away, wiping at the tears on his face.

“Let’s get to my house okay? We can figure this out there,” Stiles said.

“O-okay…” Derek mumbled.

“Dick’s coming to pick you up. I’ve gotta deal with a few things around here,” Jason interrupted.

“Thanks Jay…”

“Don’t thank me yet. I just gave you to the mother hen of our group.”

Sighing softly Stiles got to his feet once Dick was there. Gently taking Derek’s hand, he led him out to the car. Thankfully the only one there was Dick, which would make this a whole lot easier. Getting in the backseat with Derek, even if it was just too keep him calm during the drive. The drive back was very quiet. Either Derek was very wary of Dick, sensing that he was human, or he was still in shock from the recent revelation. 

“You hungry?” Dick asked, looking back, “There’s a drive-through nearby.”

“Yeah… a little,” Derek admitted, glancing over at Stiles.

“League-Burger okay?”

“League-Burger?” 

“It’s like a McDonalds, it has burgers,” Stiles explained.

Not long after they were at home, Derek eating a Wonder Woman Burger (their largest size of burgers) and Stiles was chowing down on Manhunter Fries. Even Dick had gotten something to eat, a Superman Salad. He was such a health freak. The others gave him crap about it a lot, except Uncle Bruce and Alfred. Sighing softly Stiles picked at his fries, glancing over at the extremely quiet Derek Hale. There were no other conversations, all just trying to finish their food. This was one of the most awkward silence’s he’s ever had to deal with. Even the food they were eating did nothing to help the awkwardness. 

“Let’s get you to my room,” Stiles said, once they were at the house, “Get some sleep, if you need anything I’ll be in the living room.”

“Alright,” Derek said softly, following Stiles into his room before sitting on the edge of the bed.

“I’ll be back in a bit, one of my foster-siblings is injured and I need to check up on him. Just, stay right here okay?” Stiles asked.

“Stiles… can I ask you a question?” Derek asked before he walked away. Stiles paused and glanced back at Derek, before nodding. “Who set the fire?”

Taking a sharp inhale, he had been avoiding this question, Stiles bit his lip. It was obvious Kate was behind this and they didn’t know what she was planning, especially with changing Derek back to a teenager. Sighing softly he moved to Derek’s side, sitting down on the bed next to him. A little bit of apprehension glinted in his eyes and Stiles squeezed his own knees some. How was he supposed to tell him this?

“You know Kate Argent?” Stiles finally broached.

“What does she have to do with any of this?” Derek asked. “She couldn’t have done that.”

“She did Derek. The whole house being set ablaze was her doing. She’s also the one that reverted you back to your teenage age. You can’t trust her, but we need to know her plan. If she shows up go with her, do what she says. I’ll find you,” Stiles told him gently, “But be careful please. We don’t know what she might do.”

“You want me to go with her if she comes to get me?” Derek yelped.

“Calm down, I can give you an emergency beacon if it becomes too much. I’ll be there in minutes if you call me.”

The werewolf looked at his hands, which were shaking slightly. Putting his hand under Derek’s jaw, Stiles tilted it upwards slightly. Usually Derek initiated any and all kisses, and there was no way Stiles was going to take advantage of him in his younger state, but Stiles still placed a gentle kiss on his forehead. After the kiss Derek gripped him tightly in a hug, practically clinging. Gently Stiles pulled away, ruffling his hair gently.   
“I’ve gotta check on Jaime, but I’ll be back, promise,” Stiles told him gently.

“A-alright…”

Returning to his feet Stiles made his way upstairs to Jaime’s room. Inside Cassie had her feet up on the bed, a book on her stomach as she snored softly. Curled up in a little ball on Jaime’s good side, Bart had his eyes shut gently and one hand clutching Jaime’s shirt. It seemed only Jaime was awake, one of his hands running through Bart’s red hair gently. However the movements stopped for a second when he looked up at Stiles, starting up once again when Bart nuzzled closer.

“Hey, how you feeling?” Stiles asked.

“Better, my leg itches some however,” Jaime replied, “How are you, amigo? Have you told Jason or Dick about the whole energy thing?”

“I don’t even understand it yet Jaime. The limits of my capabilities, just how much I can actually do, how to work it.” Stiles sat himself down next to Jaime. “Not to mention the whole no powers at Gotham rule.”

“So? You’ve worked with him since you were a kid Stiles. He’s not gonna kick you out.”   
“You don’t know him like I do Jaime. He’ll never look at me the same way. I won’t ever be able to go to Gotham again. Blüdhaven is a likely chance to go to and Jason will never leave me behind but…”

There was only silence from Jaime, who was looking at him in a way akin to pity. Glancing down and away Stiles began to hear a beeping noise. Once he reached into his pocket and pulled out the beacon. A soft curse escaped his lips and he returned to his feet. Jaime went to sit up but Stiles gently pushed him back down. 

“I can handle this. If one of the others wake up or if Dick and Jason come upstairs send them after me,” Stiles gently said.

“Why aren’t you getting them yourself, hermano?” Jaime demanded.

“No time.”

Stiles pulled on his Shadow Fox costume and applied the domino mask to his face. Straightening out the creases and folds, Stiles slipped his boots onto his feet and put all his weapons on his person before rushing downstairs. The Shadow Bike appeared beside him and he swung his leg over before speeding down the road. Hopefully he would get there in time, keep his promise to Derek. Skidding to a stop outside the school, the first thing that caught his attention was the moved Beacon Hills sign. Moving in the shadows Stiles crept into the newly found vault. 

“Peter!” Stiles exclaimed, stopping beside the elder werewolf, “Where’s Derek? What happened?”

“Derek disappeared after Scott howled? I don’t know if he’s okay. Kate wasn’t after the triskelion, she was after the money in the vault. There was a hundred and seventeen million dollars in there.”   
“That’s a lot of money.”   
“Says the nephew of a billionaire,” Lydia snarked as she crept down the steps.

“Oi!”

Once again Stiles felt the beacon go off. It was even louder this time and Stiles rushed out of the vault. That could be dealt with later. Even as he rushed down the halls he felt himself worrying. The beacon going off twice meant whatever the cause was urgent. Turning a corner Stiles skidded to a stop, watching as Derek (still a teenager) fought the Berserker’s. Lashing out with his whip, Stiles caught the ankle of one of the Berserker’s. There was a flicker in Derek’s appearance and Stiles gaped at him, so shocked he let the Berserker yank him forwards. Stomach yanking across the ground, Stiles hooked his legs around one of the railings and held on. It felt like his body was being torn in half, stretching beyond his limits. Suddenly the lights in the hallway turned on, shocking the people and Berserker’s around him. The energy from the lights caused them to begin flickering, even as the white energy combined with his tainted aura. Then it began to spread out of him, spreading down his whip and around the Berserker. Once it reached the Berserker it began to tear him apart bit by bit. Shards of bone tumbled to the ground, the skin falling down piece by piece. Dust layered the ground and Stiles pulled back his whip in shock. The Berserker fell to the ground and shattered into little pieces, to unrecognizable to tell what it was if you hadn’t been there. Energy was still filling his body and Stiles collapsed to the ground, his whole body thrumming. It was creating a growing ball around him, pulsating.

“Stiles!” Derek was an adult again it seemed. 

“Get out!” Stiles shouted, trying to rain it in.

“No! Stiles send it back somehow.”

“I can’t.”

The energy was getting stronger, the effort to keep it from exploding outwards depleting his resources. Sweat began to bead at his forehead. It was like overusing a muscle. The burn growing and spreading throughout his body, head beginning to pound the longer it went on. Someone’s hands, Derek’s, gripped his upper arm. Then the energy input began to stop, before slowly dissipating as he got ahold of himself. Gasping for air it returned to where it came from, some retreating into his body.

“I’m okay,” Stiles gasped, using the back of his gloved hand to wipe off the sweat, “Let’s just go.”

**_************BATWOLF**********_ **

While he wasn’t part of the Lacrosse team, it’d be a bit suspicious and he did not have the time anyways, he was still at the tryouts. Homework itself was difficult to keep up with already, especially with his patrols and the ‘pack meetings’. By his side was Bart and Jaime, Cassie out somewhere with Lydia and Kira. In front of him was Scott, in his gym clothes. There was a lacrosse stick in his hands and he was staring at the field.

“Look, you’re still team captain. You got your grades up didn’t you? Just as Coach asked,” Stiles reminded him, having sensed his anxiety. 

“I’ve texted Argent about Kate’s return but he hasn’t gotten back to me,” Scott avoided the question, “I would’ve called but I can’t afford the call to France.”

“I would’ve given you my phone to use if you told me, I can afford it. Anyways you  _ texted  _ him about his sister’s return? That’s kinda impersonal and a bit of a shock.”

“Shut up.”   
“Besides, we have a hundred and seventeen problems and lacrosse isn’t even on that list.”

Angrily, Scott gestured to the field. Following his gaze Stiles saw the new kid, Liam Dunbar (a freshmen), at the goal. Every single ball thrown his way was caught. Already Stiles had done a background on the kid, with Barbara’s help, and hadn’t found anything supernatural about the kid. There were a few medical diagnosis on him, IED included, and he had been expelled from his last school, otherwise there was nothing on him. However he could see where Scott was coming from. Then again just about all the batkids could be considered supernatural, especially Jason, but they were just that good. 

“He could take my spot as team captain,” Scott disagreed, “Are you sure he’s not a werewolf or something?”

“Positive,” Stiles replied.

Next to him Bart shifted and Stiles sighed softly. That was basically a confirmation that there was something that had to do with Liam in the future. Rubbing his eyes Stiles heard Scott running towards the field. The practice was short, but felt longer. At one point Bart and Jaime disappeared, possibly to return home. Honestly Stiles could care less, mind running through what Liam could mean in the future. Was he another human member (with his skills it would make sense, a quarterstaff would be the best weapon for him), or maybe another supernatural creature? Maybe he wasn’t anything important, it could just be that he was another death caused by them. Not that it wasn’t that he wasn’t important if he died, just that it meant he wasn’t someone that would join the pack. Sighing softly he glanced up before following Scott to the locker room.

“What was that on the field? No freshmen are that good in the beginning,” Scott demanded.

“Scott!” Stiles snapped, coming over.

“I transferred from Devonport Prep,” Liam explained, immediately Stiles realized he was lying but understood why (having seen the pictures) and Scott’s eyes narrowed, “I learned from my stepfather, been playing since I was a kid. He was the team captain as a sophomore.”

“Scott back off,” Stiles growled at him, using his Batman impression.

The alpha backed down, giving Liam one last angry look, before heading to the showers. Sighing softly Stiles ran a hand down his face. Why was Beacon Hills more stressful than Gotham? Like seriously, a few teenage werewolves shouldn’t bring his stress up more than the Joker could. But no, instead his stress levels were higher than they were if the Joker escaped. Giving Liam an apologetic smile Stiles left the locker room, his phone buzzing. Opening it he found a Triple Homicide notice. 

“Fun,” Stiles grumbled before sending a text out too Jason and Dick.

**Group Text RedShadowWing:**

**Shadow: What’s up with the Triple Homicide? Anything I should be worried about?**

**Group Text RedShadowWing:**

**Red: Checking it out now. Looks like an ax-murderer**

**Group Text RedShadowWing:**

**Wing: Like the horror movie?**

Stiles didn’t bother with a reply, instead stuffing his phone back in his pocket. Even if it was something he should be worried about they wouldn’t tell him, which meant he needed to do his own investigation. That also meant that he would need to have a meeting with the pack. There was no way he’d be able to do it on his own. Dick and Jason would be expecting it.

“Scott, there was a triple homicide,” Stiles said the second he found him.   
“I know, Mom called me earlier,” Scott replied.

“We need to go and investigate.”

“Econ.”

“So?”

The alpha stopped and turned to look at him. Sighing softly Stiles ran a hand through his hair, immediately knowing where this was going to go. After the Mexico incident all the adults sat them down and told them to let them handle it. This was obviously a Melissa, the Yukimara’s, and Dick’s thing. Jason followed Dick, the overprotective older brother, in this decision. That decision basically benched the teen heroes despite the fact it was  _ their  _ mission. A never-ending mission it seemed, which was clearly draining on Jaime (who had a family) but he was staying strong. 

“Our families told us to stay out of it Stiles, that’s what we should do,” Scott replied.

“Let the adult’s handle it,” Kira agreed, having appeared.

“That’s the most irresponsible thing I’ve ever heard,” Stiles growled.

Stalking off, Stiles went to go find the other heroes. All of them were pissed that they weren’t ‘allowed’ to do their mission anymore. Cassie especially was anxious to do some action (let’s just say their punching bag had gotten quite a beating) so she would go for it. As for Bart and Jaime, they were touch and go. He knew Khaji had been bugging Jaime (having overheard half of that conversation) about it. So there was a likely chance Jaime would go for it even just to shut the scarab up for a few days and Bart would follow.

“Cassie!” She turned around at his call, eyebrows risen. “Triple homicide, wanna investigate?”

“Finally,” Cassie breathed, “Of course.”

“Help me convince Jaime?”   
“As much as he says he is going to listen, it won’t take much for him to be convinced.”

“And Bart will follow him.”

“Exactly. I’ll go talk to them, but we should wait until after school so Dick and Jason don’t get suspicious.”

“Aren’t you supposed to watch Scott’s practice?”

“I’m pissed at him, he can deal.”

Judging by the look on Cassie’s face she didn’t believe him. That was just annoying and Stiles scowled at her. All that she responded with was a smirk, which just aggravated Stiles even more. Before he could continue arguing, Jaime and Bart walked up, Bart frowning heavily and clinging to Jaime. Something had happened, but Stiles had no clue what.

“What’s going on?” Stiles asked.

“Nothing,” Bart answered immediately, eyes widening a fraction.

Stiles didn’t believe him, “Okay… you guys up to investigate a triple homicide?”

“Now?” Jaime asked.

“Only if you guys have a free period, bring Lydia if you do. She has a free period as well,” Stiles replied.

“We can go,” Bart immediately spoke up, “I’ll find Lydia.”

Before anyone could speak up, Bart was gone in a streak of red. Sighing softly Stiles glanced over at Cassie, Jaime calling after Bart and following. The other girl just raised an eyebrow before walking away. This left Stiles alone in the hallway. Sighing softly he walked towards Economy, the last class of the day.

In the locker room with Scott, leaning against the locker, Stiles raised an eyebrow. He had honestly stopped listening, mostly, when he began to ramble about what happened after Stiles left them earlier. Apparently he had kissed Kira, but hadn’t kissed Kira. Stiles honestly wasn’t sure how that worked. If you kiss someone you kiss someone. There was really nothing else it could possibly be. Unless you bit them, then it’s just biting. 

“It’s like the kiss you give your grandma when you’re five years old,” Scott described.

“I never met my grandparent’s but I’m fairly certain that kiss is considered chaste,” Stiles replied.

“That’s sad. But yes. And now it’s just all weird. Maybe I should text her.”

“No, don’t text her.” Rao knows that didn’t work for any of the Justice League members that had relationships outside of the know. “That’s probably the worst thing you could possibly do.”

“Then what do you suggest I do?”

“Oh no, I’m not going to be your cupid. Figure it out yourself. I’m gonna go find Cassie and Kira. I’m sitting with them there.”

“Where’s Bart and Jaime?”

Instead of responding, Stiles waved him off and headed out the door. It would do no good if Scott found out where exactly they were. Honestly it would be better just for Scott to draw his own conclusions. There was no need to get that argument started up again. Sighing softly, he sat next to Cassie. The amazonian looked up at him and gave a small smile before returning to her reading. 

Stiles didn’t pay much attention to the field, only noticing that Scott wasn’t doing as well as he used to do. Actually the freshman, Liam, was doing very well. Then again Stiles wasn’t entirely surprised. From what he had dug up on Liam, the boy always did his best in any and all sports he put his mind too. Lacrosse seemed to be his best. However Stiles was slightly surprised to see just how good he was, even beating a supernatural creature.

“He’s not using his werewolf abilities is he?” Stiles whispered to the others.

“I don’t think so,” Cassie responded softly.

“If he considers it cheating that’s stupid. His werewolf abilities are apart of him. Just like Khaji is apart of Jaime.”

“He probably doesn’t see it that way.”

On the field, Stiles saw a flash of red eyes. Something pissed him off, maybe something the guy he was paired with said, just as Liam rushed them. The werewolf ducked under the charging freshman and flipped him over his shoulder. Everyone froze, Stiles rushing down the steps. In anger Coach Finstock threw the lacrosse ball at the stands, which Kira stopped with the lacrosse stick she had. Ignoring the resulting conversation Stiles knelt in front Liam, glaring slightly at Scott.

“You okay? Rate your pain between one to ten. One being meh and ten being oh my god I’m gonna die,” Stiles said.

“Zero, I’m fine,” Liam struggled to his feet, in obvious pain.

“God, you’re like Jason. Pretending nothing can hurt you. Scott help me get him to the nurse.”

The werewolf put one of Liam’s arms around his shoulders, Stiles doing the same on his other side. Together they made their way to the nurse’s office, doing their best to keep from aggravating the injury. It was only once they got to the nurse’s office and had him briefly checked over that they realized Liam needed a hospital. 

“We’ll drive him in my jeep,” Stiles said, “Help me get him in.”

The ride was short, relatively. It was not quiet though. In the back Liam was cursing them, holding onto his leg. With every curse Scott flinched, worrying on his bottom lip. Finally stopping in front of the emergency room entrance, Stiles helped Scott get Liam inside the emergency room. Once the two were safely inside Stiles rushed back out again and parked his car. There Liam was leaning heavily against Scott, looking very disgruntled, as Stiles walked up to them at the counter.

“What happened?” Melissa demanded as she came out of the hallway nearby.

“Long story,” Scott started, getting a glare from Liam, “Can you get him a room while Stiles and I check him in?”

One of the other nurses grabbed a wheelchair, helping Liam into it, before going back behind the desk. Melissa wheeled Liam away, Scott finishing up checking Liam in, before walking to one of the chairs. It was then that Stiles realized there was a quick debriefing with Batman in the Team Dungeon (aka the basement that Bruce had made into their version of the Bat-Cave for their identities) that he needed to get too. Softly cursing Stiles looked over at Scott.

“I have to get home, study session with the others.” Stiles started to walk away before turning to look back at Scott. “Remember that Liam’s injury isn’t your fault okay? It could’ve happened if I was out there, if anyone else was out there other than you. Besides, if you had put any werewolf strength in there Liam would be in two halves.”

“If I hadn’t been so concerned about losing my place as captain of the team… Liam wouldn’t have gotten hurt,” Scott replied.

“It’s okay to want something for yourself once in awhile. It’s only human.”

That was a line he had to use a lot on his family, otherwise they wouldn’t do anything selfish. It was used the most on Dick, unsurprisingly, with Tim a close second. His Uncle had it used on him by each and every one of his children at least once. So far Stiles hadn’t had to use it on Stephanie, but he wasn’t expecting too anytime soon.

Gently patting Scott’s shoulder, Stiles left silently. The drive home was silent, only broken by the occasional honk or screeching of breaks from other cars. Turning into his driveway, Stiles parked in the garage before heading downstairs. Everyone was already in their uniforms, Jason with his helmet under his arm but a domino mask over his face. Dick was leaning against one of the cases that held their uniforms, squinting under his domino mask at the screen. Quickly Stiles got changed, securing his black domino mask on his face before sitting in the middle chair. Only Cassie’s face wasn’t covered with a mask, Jaime in his full armour. Even Bart had his goggles on, something that was immensely rare.

“Has he called yet?” Stiles asked.

“No Fox. I expect he has his hands quite full.” The smirk on Dick’s face was not something he enjoyed.

“Stupid Demon Spawn,” Jason grumbled and Stiles furrowed his brow.

“Oh! Oh!” Bart suddenly began to zoom between Dick and Jason, practically jumping on them.

“Bart, cariño, calm down,” Jaime called.

“Guys!” Cassie pointed at the screen.

Stiles quickly answered it, watching as Bruce showed up with his cowl up. There was a new person standing behind him, a hood pulled over his face casting a shadow over his face. A new Robin perhaps? Possibly if the Robin symbol on his chest was any indication. It seemed Dick knew, which meant Jason had as well, if the way the new Robin pulled his hood down at the sight of Nightwing. The resemblance to Bruce was uncanny, even with the green domino mask covering his eyes. There was only one difference between the two, the darker skin tone. Middle Eastern perhaps?

“Team, meet the new Robin. Robin, the team,” Batman said.

“I know Father. Jaime Reyes, the Blue Beetle, Bart Allen, Impulse, Cassie Sandsmark, Wondergirl.”

Stiles noticed how he didn’t say his own name, or Jason and Dick’s. It was clear he still assumed that their identities were a secret, or perhaps didn’t know his or the other two. Then again it was possible he didn’t feel the need to show that he knew the three that were part of the Batfamily. After all if he was Robin, that meant he was another brother. But, if the way he called Bruce father was any kind of clue, maybe Stiles had a cousin now. The only question he had was, how come he hadn’t been told this? Maybe Bruce hadn’t even known.

“Father?” Stiles asked, glancing over at his Uncle.

The only thing he got in response was a silent promise of later, before Bruce stared at the other’s in his typical Batglare. Almost immediately Cassie began to talk about them finding out that the triple homicide victims were actually Wendigo’s, how Lydia was warning Scott and Melissa at the hospital, and everything else that had just happened. With almost every word, Robin made a loud and obnoxious tutting noise. Almost every time Robin tutted there was an almost unnoticeable twitch from Cassie, her lips tightening angrily.

“Shadow Fox?” Bruce asked.

“That’s about it, we’re dealing with some sort of serial hunter,” Stiles mentioned, rubbing his forehead, “I wouldn’t be surprised if he went after Sean in the hospital.”

“Do you have anyone there watching after him?” 

“Scott’s there, I warned him. Can you have Red Robin look up the Mute? That’s the name of the guy that killed the family.”

“I’ll get right on it,” Tim called off screen.

“Get some sleep first,” Stephanie also shouted off screen.

“You’re not my mom Batgirl!”

“I might as well be!”

“Tt,” Robin muttered.

“Does this happen a lot?” Jaime asked.   
“More than you know,” Jason replied with a small smirk, “Having issues with your children B?”

“Not now Hood,” Bruce muttered rubbing his nose.

The arguing suddenly cut off when Bruce turned his batglare at the two off the screen. Behind him the other teens sniggered slightly, before sobering when the batglare was directed at them. Even Stiles felt the sudden need to be quieter and he wasn’t even talking. With everyone silent and paying attention Bruce, still as Batman, straightened himself up and stared at them.

“If that’s all, Team you are dismissed. Hood, Nightwing, Fox stay behind,” Bruce ordered.

Stiles pretended not to notice the two questioning looks sent in his direction from Jaime and Cassie. It was clear that Bart knew who the knew Robin was, but he didn’t say anything. In fact Bart dragged both Jaime and Cassie out, chattering about a new game he learned at school. Hopefully Stiles wouldn’t be dragged into it when he finally left the cave. It was only after Dick checked to make sure that they were in the clear, security cameras pinpointing the trio back in the living room in civvies, that Bruce pulled down his cowl.

“Damian, you can take off your mask now,” Bruce told Robin, even as Stiles peeled off his own domino mask.

“Father,” Damian growled.

“Hey little D, it’s cool. Fox and Hood are family,” Dick said, his mask dangling off his fingers.

“Tt, Todd is even worse of a disgrace to the family name then Drake is.”

“Oh so I am better than someone,” Tim muttered under his breath.

“You haven’t met your cousin yet Damian,” Bruce replied.

“Cousin? I have no cousins.”

There was a slight twitch of Bruce’s lip, the inaccuracy of that statement was even more amusing considering how many descendents and other possible love children that Ra’s might have. It amused Stiles at how little Damian probably knew about Bruce if he didn’t know about Stiles and by association his mother. Leaning back in his chair, Stiles set the mask on the keyboard and watched a varying amount of emotions cross Damian’s face. Eventually it settled on rage, which was almost amusing to see on a virtual clone of Bruce, as the ten year old turned on Bruce.

“How does Grandfather not know about this?! Does Mother know?! How do I have a cousin?! WHO IS HE?!” Damian sent rapid fire at Bruce.

“Hey, I didn’t know I had a cousin either. You don’t see me tearing a new one into Uncle Bruce,” Stiles piped up.

“You don’t look like Father?”

“I look like my dad more than my mom. I’m Stiles by the way.”

“Hmph, you don’t look like a warrior. I will judge you on the battlefield. You might be worthy to bear the family name like Grayson.”

Stiles raised an eyebrow in Dick’s direction, who only shrugged at him in response. He’d drag it out of him later. For now he was somewhat distracted by Bruce having a kid, which he assumed he didn’t know about, who seemed to have anger management issues. The kid, Damian, also seemed to be judging who was or was not worthy of being part of the family. Did he get all of that right?

“So kid, who’s your mom?” Stiles asked, might as well play twenty questions.

“Talia al Ghul.” At least Damian sounded proud of having an assassin as his mom.   
“That’s interesting.” Stiles glanced at his Uncle, who was pretending to be distracted by Tim. “How’d you get to Bruce?”

Damian clenched his fists, glaring at the screen, “They killed my Grandfather and Mother felt it best for me to remain with my Father.”

“Ah…” Stiles phone rang and he glanced down at it. Scott was calling, which meant something must have happened. Abruptly standing, Stiles raised his phone to the screen as he walked away. It seemed that Damian didn’t care or wasn’t making his agitation known. 

“Scott?” Stiles asked.

_ ~Stiles, something happened… C-Can you come to my house?~  _

“Yeah, yeah of course I can Scotty. What’s going on?”

_ ~Nothing big… I just need your help and I’m kinda sorta panicking… get here soon please!~ _

“I’m coming.”

**_******************BATWOLF**************_ **

Immediately Stiles rushed up the stairs and into Scott’s room. The alpha had his elbows on his knees and head in his hands. Glancing around Stiles tried to find what was wrong, before he heard a thud in the bathroom. Narrowing his eyes he looked at Scott, whose eyes widened.

“Look, I can explain,” Scott said, “I was saving his life!”

“Did you bite someone?! Scott who did you bite?!” Stiles exclaimed.

“Liam…” Scott winced.

“Why is he in your bathroom?”

“I had to do something!”

“So you kidnapped him? Tied him up and left him in your bathtub…”

“Yes?”

Sighing, Stiles opened the door to Scott’s bathroom. Almost immediately the alpha scrambled up behind him and loomed over his shoulder. The closed shower curtain moved and Stiles pushed it out of his way. Honestly Liam looked almost pathetic (no he did look pathetic) tied up and gagged with duct tape in the bathtub. Making eye contact with the younger boy Stiles winced. This was not the way to instill faith in someone. The younger whimpered and grunted at him from behind the tub, kicking against the tub. Glancing over at Scott, Stiles sighed. 

“This is why you don’t make the plans,” Stiles informed him.

“Hey! I panicked!” Scott exclaimed.

In response Stiles sent him an unimpressed look. The alpha had the decency to look abashed and Stiles knelt by Liam’s side. Once again the transforming (or dying) werewolf (human) made noises from underneath the gag. Reaching forward, Stiles pulled off the duct tape covering his mouth. Liam took a deep inhale, glaring at Scott angrily. 

“Liam, we need to explain a few things to you. I can take off the restraints but you have to promise you won’t run okay?” Stiles said, “We can even move to Scott’s bedroom if you want.”

“I’m not going to listen to you! You’re all insane!” Liam exclaimed.

“Just a little. But we can explain what you saw up on the roof and what is going to happen to you.”

“Is that a threat! I could sue!”

Scott guffawed at the threat but Stiles waved it off. “You can try. Now I can either put a new piece of tape on your mouth or you can cooperate and I can remove the duct tape restraining you.”

Liam glowered angrily, “I’ll cooperate.”

“Great!”

Pulling out a knife, which caused a flash of fear to cross the freshman’s face and him to shrink back in the tub, Stiles cut the duct tape on Liam’s hands and feet. Then he helped Liam peel off the excess and tossed them in the trash. When Liam made to run for it Stiles easily caught him, throwing him back against the tub. Having trained against Earth’s Mightiest Heroes and their protegees it was easier than it probably should have been. Sighing softly Stiles closed the door behind him and set Scott as a guard. Then he pulled up a stool and sat across from Liam in the cramped bathroom.

“Look, there’s no easy way to say this. Scott bit you, Scott is an alpha werewolf. If he had been a beta or an omega you wouldn’t be experiencing what you’re about to experience. In all honesty I wouldn’t even want it. Some people consider it a gift but I consider it a burden. That’s probably the biggest thing my boyfriend and I disagree on.” Stiles would have the minor freakout about admitting Derek was his boyfriend later. “You’re becoming a werewolf Liam… well that or you’ll die.” Stiles winced at his wording. “You’re a healthy kid though, very athletic and your body seems adaptable I guess. The chances of you rejecting the bite aren’t likely so we’re gonna treat this as you becoming a werecreature.”

“Wait! I’m gonna die?!” Liam exclaimed.

“No, no. There’s a chance but that’s extremely slim and we will do something to keep that from happening okay? Calm down, take a deep breathe. In, out. Good. Just listen to me, questions later.” 

Swallowing deeply, Liam nodded and picked at the bandage around his arm. At least Scott had been considerate enough to bandage the bite mark. With how this night was going Stiles wouldn’t have been surprised if he hadn’t. Sighing softly he remembered what he was going to say.

“There’s a group of us, a pack. We’re close-knit and all, but there’s an open spot for you. You’re actually Scott’s first bitten beta and all. We have two alpha’s technically and I’m dating the second one, yay me! Anyways, the pack helps keep you sane during the full moon. You can join us or you can go your own way. We won’t force you to join our pack Liam, but we can help you control the shift. We’re family, if you want us to be. You don’t have to decide right now Liam, but preferably before you go all murdery werewolf on the full moon.”

“You’re insane. All of you! I’m not joining your occult pack thing!”

“Consider it Liam. Come to us if you have any questions okay?”   
Liam stood up abruptly, pushing Scott aside angrily. The bedroom door slammed as he exited the room, leaving the bathroom door wide open. Scott went to go after him but Stiles grabbed his arm and shook his head gently. It would be best for Liam to come to one of them. There was no forcing this, especially considering how all the words they had exchanged with Liam before hadn’t been the best. Just getting him to listen was difficult. Rubbing his eyes, Stiles stood up.

“Stiles! He needs to join the pack!” Scott hissed.

“We can’t force him Scott, let him come to us okay? Don’t force the issue. All you’ll do is push him farther away,” Stiles sighed.

“But the full moon!”

“We’ll be there for him. If he hasn’t come to us by then I’ll have one of the others stick close to him. Or we can convince him to be there for one full moon, at least suggest it. But don’t push the issue.”

Scott didn’t look convinced but Stiles was just too tired to do anything. Yawning he exited the room. They’d deal with this tomorrow.

“What should we do about Liam?” Cassie asked them the next day at lunch, picking at the caesar salad in front of her.

Last night they had been discussing Liam, the implications that this might cause. It was Jaime, or Khaji through Jaime, that brought up the Calaveras warning about Scott giving anyone the bite. That just added a whole new layer of issues that Stiles just did not want to deal with. His headache was bad enough already, though he wasn’t sure if it had escalated to a migraine yet. Stabbing the chicken from his school lunch, Stiles raised an eyebrow at the sight of everyone looking at him.

“I’ll ask Derek what his family did for new werewolves, maybe pry at my contacts, but otherwise we just need to let him come to us,” Stiles reminded them, pointing the chicken on the end of his fork at them.

“We can use the basement at Lydia’s lake house, if he joins us for the full moon,” Scott suggested.

“Umm, no,” Lydia replied, “We’re trying to sell that place remember? Why don’t we use the renovated Hale House?”

“Derek might go for it, but there’s nothing in there yet. Besides it hasn’t been approved for living in yet,” Stiles said.

“We won’t be living in it. Just visiting.”

“How about the loft?” Kira jumped in, “Derek might want to meet the new wolf, he’s the other alpha.”

“Derek’ll just scare him away,” Scott argued.

“Derek liked Liam,” Bart muttered under his breath on Stiles other side.

“What?”

Instead of replying Bart stuffed his nutella sandwich in his mouth and gave Scott the most unconvincing innocent look possible. Jaime wrinkled his nose and stole one of Bart’s chips. Before a fight could break out between the two (which usually ended with Bart looking like a kicked puppy and Jaime speaking rapidly in Spanish), Stiles gave Bart a pointed look to swallow before he spoke to Scott.

“Get your head out of your ass, Scott. Derek is the other alpha and Liam, if he chooses to be part of the pack, needs to meet him sooner rather than later. You and Liam don’t exactly have the best relationship right now,” Stiles snapped, his headache only growing the longer this conversation went on.

Fire practically lit in Scott’s eyes. “So you want him and Derek to have a relationship?! When has Derek ever been good with kids!”

“He’s not a kid Scott! Liam is a fucking teenage boy! And Derek had many, many, younger cousins and siblings! He’s probably a hell of a lot better with kids than you are!”

“Put your junk away boys,” Lydia cut in, “Stiles ask Derek if we can use the loft for the full moon. I’ll deal with Peter if necessary.”

“How are we going to get Liam there anyways?” Cassie asked.

“If he doesn’t come to use we’ll trick him.”

“How do you suggest we do that amiga?” Jaime demanded, “Throwing him in a trunk is not an option ese!”

“We tell him there’s a party and invite him,” Lydia replied easily.

That might work, but who’s to say he wouldn’t spread the word about there being a party in the first place? And what would they do when he found out there wasn’t actually a party and he’d been tricked into getting there. Doing that would only make him angrier and push him farther away. But he needed to be there for the full moon, at least so that he didn’t end up killing anybody. Running his hand through his hair Stiles missed the next part of the conversation, only joining back in when his name was said.

“...Stiles you check with Derek and text us the answer. We’ll rendezvous at the loft, if not we can tie him to a tree in the woods. Got it? Good,” Lydia said, getting up and leaving the table before Stiles could demand an explanation.

That night, Stiles was the first to get to the loft. The second he walked inside he caught sight of Peter heading up the stairs. As expected there was a snide comment on keeping it PG and too make sure it doesn’t smell to much. Instead of responding as he usually did, Stiles headed straight towards Derek. The older alpha had his back to him, but rumbled in greeting when Stiles wrapped his arms around him and rested his cheek on Derek’s back. Their energies intertwined, his usual tainted energy and Derek’s rich purple practically greeting each other. They danced and swirled in a mesmerizing way. Only recently had Stiles managed to use this ability, with lots and lots of meditation, and turn it on and off. Usually he kept it off but when he was around Derek he enjoyed seeing their auras interact.

“You’re distracted,” Derek said in a low growl.   
“Just thinking. I don’t agree with this plan of theirs. There’s so much that could go wrong. We might just succeed in pushing Liam even further away,” Stiles muttered, the auras fading away as he quit using the ability.

“Or we can prove that we care enough to do whatever necessary to keep him safe.”

Stiles scoffed slightly, even as Derek shifted in his arms. Soon he found himself pressed against Derek’s chest, hearing the comforting rumble more clearly. For some reason it helped soothe his worries.

“When have you ever known a teenage boy to think rationally?” Stiles whispered.

“Well, there’s you and I think Jaime is fairly good at thinking rationally,” Derek replied, the smirk clear in his words.

“Jaime has a scarab on his spine that thinks rationally for him and I was raised by  _ THE  _ Batman. Now how about an average teenage boy.”

“From what I’ve heard Liam isn’t exactly average.”

“In athleticism he’s not.”

For some reason this talk with Derek was calming him rather than adding to his stress and headache. Humming softly Stiles allowed himself to melt in Derek’s embrace, choosing to ignore the amused noise the alpha let out. Nuzzling closer, Stiles rubbed his cheek against Derek’s shoulder.  The loft door opened and Derek lifted his nose up from Stiles’ hair.

“Scott,” Derek greeted evenly.

Breaking away from Derek’s embrace, Stiles turned to look at Derek. Also there was Cassie, standing behind Scott slightly. It was quite possible that Derek hadn’t even noticed her. Before either one could greet the amazonian, there was a sudden strong breeze and a streak of color. Seconds later Jaime charged in the door, looking exasperated.

“Ralentiza, Bart. Slow down,” Jaime groaned, moving to stand beside Scott.

“Did you just tell a speedster to slow down?” Bart demanded, once he had taken a detour to the kitchen and returned with a thing of cheddar and sour cream pringles. “That’s so not crash.”

“You just stole some of Derek’s pringles, cariño.”

Before Bart could reply, the door opened again. Entering together were Dick, Jason, and Cassie, chatting about something or another. All went quiet when they saw the others staring at them. Instead of acting awkward, Jason winked at them and Dick raised his eyebrows. Cassie just moved to stand besides Lydia, greeting her quietly. 

“Have I said that I disagree wholeheartedly with this plan?” Stiles demanded.

“Many times,” Bart replied, offering Jaime some chips. Instead of denying them Jaime took one, eating it quietly.

“Well I still disagree.”

“We know,” Scott said.

Narrowing his eyes, Stiles leant back against Derek’s chest. For a second they all just stood there. The werewolves perked up and a second later the loft door opened. Liam was the first to walk through, extremely hesitant. Kira followed him, practically blocking his only exit. Immediately the freshman’s walls went up and Stiles could practically see as he shut down. Sighing once again, Stiles decided to speak up when the others didn’t.

“Think of it as an intervention. But I still do not agree with this plan,” Stiles pointed out.

“Thanks for your help Stiles,” Liam growled, Stiles noticing as his eyes glinted the unnatural yellowish gold.

“I’m doing what I can when no one else seems to agree. I already gave you the quick rundown about the supernatural, but this is the pack. The humans are me, Jaime, Jason, and Dick. Cassie is an amazon, Bart a metahuman, Derek and Scott are the alpha’s, Kira is a kitsune, Lydia a banshee.”

Bart looked ready to argue against Stiles classifying himself as human, but was quickly silenced by Jaime stepping on his foot. Honestly Stiles wasn’t sure if he could classify himself as human either. With the new… abilities he had he wasn’t sure if it was something he always had that the Nogitsune awoke or if the foxfire had jumpstarted a meta ability. The way it came to be in himself wasn’t normal for a metahuman, from what he’s heard at least. Then again, Bart wasn’t acting like it was normal either.

“So, let me get this straight. Humans.” Liam pointed at Jason, Dick, Jaime, and Stiles. “Alpha werewolves.” He turned to Derek and Scott. “Amazon.” His finger turned to Cassie. “Banshee.” Then his finger moved to Lydia. “Fox” Kira corrected him immediately but Liam ignored her. “A metahuman? Like the Flash?” Liam was looking at Bart disbelievingly.

Bart rushed behind Liam, the streak catching up to him minutes later. A few papers blew up and Stiles grabbed a random loose one, clenching it tightly in his fist. It was kinda funny, just how wide Liam’s eyes went when Bart tapped his shoulders. Immediately the freshman turned around and Bart gave a tiny smirk.   
“Exactly like the Flash,” Bart said.

“Bart, cariño, no need to show off,” Jaime said crossing his arms.

Suddenly Bart was besides Jaime again. “But Bluuuuueeeeeee.”

“Guys, focus,” Scott snapped.

“Why’d you trick me here?” Liam demanded.

“To help you get through this full moon. Afterwards, if you still don’t want our help, you can pretend like we were never in your life,” Stiles replied before anyone else could.

As he expected he got a few glares from some of the more stuck up members of their group, but he could care less. This plan of theirs was only going to cause more pain and issues for them. Liam will never, ever, trust them again if this doesn’t go well. That’s the last thing they needed. At least Derek and the teenage, and adult, superheroes were backing him on this. Otherwise this would cause an even bigger rift between the pack. Then again, with two alpha’s and only one backing him this might cause a split. God, Stiles hoped not. This mission would only get difficult.

“I can even help with a few tricks to keep you from shifting, after tonight of course. It takes more than a few hours to get it right,” Jason offered, shrugging it off when everyone gave him a weird look, “That offer stands regardless if you join the pack.”

“You’re already feeling the effects aren’t you?” Scott cut in.

“No!” Liam growled.

This was not going to end well. Liam was not going to submit easily to Scott, which would only frustrate the both of them. Not to mention Scott would push Liam. All that would do is cause the inexperienced, newly turned, werewolf to lose control and shift. Before Stiles could step in Liam practically dropped to the ground and Scott cocked his ear to the side.

“A car just pulled up,” Scott said.

“So? This is an apartment building,” Derek reminded him.

“Lots of cars just pulled up. It sounds like…”

“Teenagers,” Jason finished the sentence, pointing outside the loft window.

“I did tell Mason about the party,” Liam admitted, causing Stiles to groan, of course, of course something just had to go wrong! This was why he made the plans! “Apparently he invited… everybody.”

Suddenly, Liam began to shift. His nails elongated into claws, scratching at the floor beneath him. Eyes turned to the golden yellow, shining brightly in the moonlight filtering through the windows, hair sprouting along the sides of his face in a resemblance of sideburns. Once the transformation finished he looked up, straight at Lydia standing in front of him, and growled deeply. Stiles saw the muscles in his legs twitching and reacted quickly, undoing his belt that doubled as his whip and snapped it in Liam’s direction. The end of the whip twisted around the werewolf’s ankle and Stiles yanked it, causing Liam to stumble and fall. 

“Get him somewhere where he can’t hurt himself. Lydia, think you can make a last minute party? Do it if you can,” Stiles ordered, “Dick, Jason, no offense or anything but you need to scatter. Teachers and police officers only tend to ruin a party. Cassie, Bart, Scott, Kira… you guys stay here and help make it seem like the party already started or something. Jaime, Derek, help me with Liam.”

“¿Por qué?” Jaime asked.

“Cause you have armour. If he manages to attack it won’t hurt. Derek is here because he’s an alpha,” Stiles explained, “And he’s already dragging Liam somewhere else. Let’s go.”

Instead of waiting for a response, Stiles followed Derek with the struggling Liam. Once they were in a different room, on the other side of the loft with Jaime closing the door behind them, Derek released his hold on Liam. Immediately the beta leapt at Jaime, as though he could that Jaime had no special ability (besides the alien scarab) and would (by his weird werewolfy instinct) be the weakest link. However the armour of the Blue Beetle spread quickly over and protected Jaime from any injuries he could have gotten. 

“LIAM!” Derek roared, shifting partially his eyes the blood red of an alpha.

Not bothering to glance over at his boyfriend, Stiles knelt beside the cowering beta. Another growl escaped Liam but it was soon quelled by another warning from Derek. As Stiles stared into the golden yellow eyes they began to return to Liam’s baby blues. A few times they flickered back and forth, but either from Derek’s growl or Liam wrestling back his control, they soon settled on his human eyes. 

“I’m a monster…” Liam practically sobbed out.

“No you’re not,” Scott said, from where he was standing at the door, “You’re a werewolf.” As if on cue both the alpha’s in the room let their red eyes shine.

That wasn’t dramatic at all.

**_*************BATWOLF*************_ **

When Lydia approached Parrish’s desk, which he could see from Jason’s office, Stiles immediately knew something was up. Glancing over at the other teens, who had began to pay attention to Lydia rather than Jason, Stiles got to his feet. Immediately Jason stopped talking, before sighing and waving him off. No words needed to be said. After all, the other three would have to get briefed on what was happening at least. 

“What’s going on?” Stiles asked, intercepting Lydia before she could reach Jordan.

“I got the second half of the deadpool,” Lydia replied tersely.

“And?”

“His name is on it.”

“Jordan? Jordan Parrish?”

“Yes Stiles.”

Before he could continue interrogating her, they reached his desk. The young deputy leaned back in his swivel chair when they reached him. Thankfully he waited for them to be able to see his computer before talking. As he talked about how he couldn’t find anything on the people on the list, he showed them pictures and the background checks he had performed on them. 

“There was another name,” Lydia admitted, turning over the paper.

On the paper was Jordan Parrish with a five next to it. While Stiles knew that five actually represented a bigger figure Jordan questioned it. Patiently Lydia explained as Stiles scanned the other names. Thankfully there weren’t any from the team or any other Superheroes and Vigilantes he knew of. Then again, there was the third part of the deadpool that they still had left to see. Chest seizing with anxiety, Stiles forced himself to rejoin the conversation. 

“It’s a list of supernatural creatures,” Stiles explained.

“We came to you to get you to help us get to Meredith. Only she can unlock the last part of the deadpool,” Lydia told him.

“What?”   
“No, last time you spoke to Meredith she practically had a nervous breakdown,” Parrish disagreed.

“Lydia.” Stiles pulled her away from Parrish. “You’re a banshee too. Can’t you figure it out?”

“I can’t control it Stiles,” Lydia snapped, “Unlike everyone else mine don’t turn on and off. I have freaking voices in my head.”

“Maybe you should listen to them once in awhile.”

The slap he got was totally not worth it. Then again, if he had really wanted too he could have stopped it. Scowling, Stiles watched as Lydia stormed back to Parrish and practically dragged him out of the office. Silently, while rubbing his jaw, Stiles realized he would have to explain this to the others. That would be a fun conversation, even if they had just seen him getting slapped.

Later in the day his phone rang. For the first time in a long time he wasn’t with anybody. Derek and Cassie were out finding Satomi’s pack, Dick was with Lydia trying to get information out of Meredith (apparently Lydia and Parrish had taken a detour to the school to get him), Jason was transporting Violet to a secure facility, Kira was who knows where, Jaime and Bart were out looking for Liam, and Stiles was all alone at home.

“Stiles Stilinski-Wayne speaking; if this is the press leave me alone, if this is someone from my very big family then you can wait, if it’s an emergency scream what you need or call nine-one-one.”

_ ~You need to convince Jason not to transport Violet~  _ Scott immediately said once Stiles stopped talking.

“And why is that?”

_ ~It’s not safe~ _

“When has that ever stopped us?”

_ ~I’m being serious Stiles!~ _

“So am I. Give it to me straight up Scott.”

_ ~Violet needs to be let go so I can get Liam back. It’s easiest if she’s in transport but I… I don’t want my Dad or Jason to see me…~ _

“You know Jaime and Bart are looking for him right now right?”

_ ~I know but…~ _

“Don’t you trust us?”

_ ~Do you really think they can find him? In time?~ _

“Bart is nothing but fast and Jaime is one of the best trackers we have. Them together is pretty crash.”

_ ~I don’t know~ _

“Look, call me if you need help or backup… but I can’t help you with this.”

_ ~Alright, keep your phone on.~ _

“Always do.”

It was only around an hour later that he was called in to the vet’s clinic. His costume was tucked in his car, for a quick change if Shadow Fox needed to be present, and his whip used as a belt. Of course he had his utility belt hidden on his person but for the most part his costume was tucked away. Inside the vet’s office Scott was sat on the operating table with a bone claw to his right, Argent on his left, and Deaton standing in front of him. 

“You called?” Stiles announced himself.

“We’re tracking the Berserker’s, might end up with a fight, wanna come?” Scott demanded.

“Do you even know me?”

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

“Drive or walk?”

In the end it was driving. Unsure if he would need his uniform (costume) or not, Stiles eventually just put it on. Both Scott and Argent knew of his Shadow Fox persona so it wouldn’t be weird to see it in him. They also knew to call him either Shadow or Fox, or Shadow Fox, when he wore this. Otherwise they’d have an angry Bat (or Bat Family) after them, which was never a good thing. Placing his mask firmly on his face, Stiles slid off of his bike.

“So, Argent Arms International. Who wants to bet there’s a certain Argent inside?” Stiles demanded.

“You’re going to jinx us,” Scott hissed.

“I worked here when my family still owned the building,” Argent said, changing the topic.

“Be careful. These creatures are strong.”

The only response from Argent was him grabbing a machine gun. A sigh escaped Stiles even as he checked his weapons. Everything was still there, including a few things he used to fight the more tough enemies he had. Everyone had a weakness, he just had to find the Berserker’s. Maybe blowing them up would work, he had a few exploding fox-tails (Bart came up with the name, it stuck to his horror) that he could use. Well, more than a few. Not to mention some of the pellets that could easily be set to explode.

“Let’s go,” Argent said.

“What? No plan?” Stiles demanded, “We have no clue what we’re walking into.”

“We have a plan, fight.”   
Before he could argue, why did no one listen to him?!, the other two walked inside. Instead of following Stiles glanced around the warehouse, finding a broken window he could easily get through. He wouldn’t even need his grappling hook to get up there. Besides, it was a better plan than the other two had. That thought in mind Stiles crept through the window after climbing the building. Thankfully there was a rafter he could use to get across.

“Put the gun down,” Kate’s voice rang through the building, Stiles freezing right above her.

A berserker immediately rushed Argent, but he shot back at them. Flipping off the edge of the rafter onto another one, Stiles avoided the ricochets. The fight began, Scott getting thrown into a wall by the Berserker’s. Dropping from the air, Stiles wound his legs around the Berserker and stabbed a fox-tail into a break in the bones. Then he kicked off and flipped in the air, landing in a crouch. A beeping filled the air before the fox-tail exploded the Berserker into tiny pieces. Kate roared with rage.

Another Berserker had run Scott through a few walls, but Stiles ignored that and instead focused on the human in the room. A Berserker was stood above Chris, about to kill him. There was no way Stiles could get there in time, or send a fox-tail to kill said Berserker, so he focused inwards. Tainted energy, so tainted he couldn’t even tell what the energy had been before, flowed off of the Berserker. Latching onto it he began to drain the Berserker, watching as it began to stagger away from Argent. 

“DON’T! RETREAT!” Kate roared angrily, rushing out of the warehouse.

Stiles was so startled his hold was released and the Berserker followed Kate out. Blinking slowly, Stiles turned back to Argent. The Hunter was staring at Stiles as Scott brought him to his feet. Well, this was awkward. He also didn’t want to deal with any questions at the moment. 

“I won’t be able to find Liam now,” Scott muttered, distraught.

“There’s still time,” Argent replied.

“Jaime and Bart are looking,” Stiles reminded him, “They’ll call the second they find him.”

“They haven’t found him yet!” Scott exclaimed. 

“There’s a lot of ground to cover, even with superspeed.”

Before their argument could continue, Scott turned as though he heard something. Barely a second later he took off and Stiles heard the sound of someone connecting to the communicator in his ear. Or possibly someone just using it again, but now with him on the line. Whatever it was he was now connected.

_ ~Did you hear that, cariño?~ _

_ ~Sounded like a howl. We don’t need to look anymore~ _

_ ~What do you mean?~ _

_ ~Scott’s got it.~ _

_ ~We should still check…~ _

_ ~If you insist, Blue~ _

His attention was diverted once again by an incoming message on his wrist computer. The wrist computer lit up when he touched it, typing in his password quickly. No, he wasn’t going to tell you it. There would be no use for a password if he did that. Once inside the message, a text from Lydia, appeared on the screen. 

**From Screaming Queen:**

**I need your help, Meredith wasn’t any use.**

Quickly, Stiles typed out a response.

**To Screaming Queen:**

**On my way.**

Peeling off on his bike, Stiles took a quick pit-stop to change back into civvies and return to his jeep. Then he made his way to Lydia’s house. Once he got there he stopped outside and knocked on the door. Immediately it was thrown open and Lydia tugged him upstairs to her room before plopping down in front of the computer. On the screen where the lines of code were written he could see all sorts of different letters or numbers, with no rhyme or reason. 

“I’ve already tried all the dead I could think of, even repeating Allison and Aiden. I’ve even included some of the dead from your side of the group, even Jason,” Lydia informed him.   
“What if it’s not someone who’s already dead, but someone who will be,” Stiles replied, “Come on Lyds, you’re a banshee. Just, focus.”

All he got in response was a deep inhale, before she let it out slowly. Her fingers hovered over the keyboards. On the screen, he could see her reflection. Eyes closed, a look of intense concentration on her face. Then, she began to type. A D, then E, an R, another E. Stiles knew what she was typing before she even hit the second E, but his heart plummeted when the K finished the name. Derek. She hit enter after hesitating, staring at the screen. It accepted the key and names appeared, their number figures beside them. Stiles had to reign in his ability tightly, but the lights flickered anyways.

“We need to call Parrish, Meredith’s name is on the list,” Lydia said.

“So is mine…” Stiles whispered, staring.

Mieczysław ‘Stiles’ Stilinski-Wayne with twenty besides it. Inhaling sharply he turned towards Lydia, who was staring at him with wide eyes. The knowledge that someone outside of the pack that had seen him first loose control of his abilities knew about it scared them both. Not even Jason and Dick knew, which was a miracle in itself. Those two were scary when it came to knowing things. 

“No one can know,” Stiles immediately said once his mind caught up, “You can’t tell them my name is on there.”

“But…” Lydia said.

“Cassie, Bart, and Jaime aren’t on the list, which means that I’m something supernatural and not a meta or something like that. If Bart was on there I’d be questioning. Lydia you can’t tell anyone, at least not until I know what I am.”

“Stiles…”

“Please Lydia… I… Please.”

“Fine. I’ll keep your name out of this.”

“Thank you.”

**_**********BATWOLF**********_ **

At the lake house, Stiles stood in the middle of the soundproof room with Cassie. Everyone else was scattered around Beacon Hills; Bart and Jaime as well as Dick with Scott, Derek, and Satomi’s pack in the warehouse, Lydia and Jason questioning Meredith, and them at the Lake House trying to stop the money flow. Not for the first time, Stiles considered just bribing the assassin’s to stop but he also knew that it wouldn’t last very long.

“This isn’t doing anything,” Cassie murmured, listening to the record player.

Neither of them were banshee’s, which meant they couldn’t hear anything from the record player. Well, any voices of any kind. Sounds, nothing except annoying clicks and grinding noises and the sound of nails on chalkboards, escaped from the record. In all honesty it was giving Stiles a headache. Banging his head against the table, Stiles lifted his head up and stared at the record player before removing the needle.

“Alright, nothing in this room,” Stiles muttered.

“Wait,” Cassie whispered softly, standing up, “I hear something.”   
“You do realize we’re on a lake right? You might be hearing the waves crashing against the shore.”

“It’s not that. Be quiet.”

Her tone was serious so Stiles kept quiet and listened as well. While he couldn’t hear anything it seemed Cassie could. The superpowered female began to walk towards one of the walls, pressing her ear against it. Brows furrowing Stiles followed, kneeling besides the record player and catching sight of a weird wire. Playing on a hunch he followed it, hands ghosting over the white wire. It entered the same wall Cassie had her ear against.

“Help me,” Stiles interrupted the quiet.

Together they began to tear against the wall, Stiles using the wire to tear a hole through it. Cassie began to peel the drywall, Stiles joining a second later. Soon there was a good sized hole and they both stepped back to fully see what was there. Old fashioned reel driven computer drives lined the hole, all turned on. So this was the deadpool. 

“Well, we found it,” Stiles said.

“How do we stop it?” Cassie questioned.

“There’s a keyhole…” Stiles put his hand over it, tracing the shape. “So we find the key.”   
“A key, there’s gotta be hundreds in here.”

“I don’t think a lock pick will help in this case.”

“Break it?”

“We don’t even know if that would work…”

Wrinkling his nose, Stiles stared at the computer drives. Hypothetically he could drain all the energy out of it and it would stop working. The only issue with that was the intake of energy he would get. With the taser debacle he started seeing auras, but with all the energy he would be getting from this… Stiles had no clue what would happen. However it was their best bet and Stiles was willing to see auras, even if it would disorient him for a bit, if it meant his friends (and by extension himself) would survive. Biting his lip, he made up his mind.

“I might pass out, fair warning,” Stiles informed Cassie.

“What?”

Instead of responding, Stiles reached out with his abilities. The energy around the computer drives were clean, white, pure energy. It was the kind he only saw in technology, which made this somewhat easier. Gently coaxing it towards him, Stiles began to siphon the energy into his body. At first he thought it easy, gaining strength in his body and things became sharper. Then it became almost painful, seeing the aura of Cassie (a sky blue) and the energy of things around him. It felt like he was burning alive, his eyesight flickering to the point he could only see energy and auras. His own aura began to grow, the pure white energy of the computer drives mixing with his own tainted grey aura. A soft gasp from Cassie, could she see his aura?, echoed in his ears. But the energy didn’t stop coming, until it suddenly did. Collapsing to the ground from shock, Stiles only heard a ringing from his ears and his eyesight was still only energy and auras.

“Stiles…” Cassie whispered, by his side but not touching him.

“I need to get rid of it,” Stiles gasped out, feeling stretched thin.

“Outside.”

Now she was touching him, which was almost painful. Her sky blue aura was pulsing with worry, only aggravating his own aura and the excess energy around him. Together they stumbled outside, Stiles collapsing once he was a few feet from the lake house. Then he released the energy, it practically exploding from out of him. The auras and energy began to fade, until he could only see Cassie and the trees and plants around him. Everything seemed greener now, despite the darkness of the night. 

“You scared me asshole,” Cassie growled at him.   
“I scared myself, did it work?” Stiles demanded.

After a quick check of her phone Cassie nodded the affirmative. Finally allowing himself to relax, Stiles gave a tiny grin.

“Good, cause I wanna pass out and just sleep until I’m thirty.”

**_*********BATWOLF*********_ **

“No, absolutely not!” Jason exclaimed, after Stiles and the other teenage superheroes declared their want to save Kira and Scott from Kate in Mexico, “This time we don’t need to do our superhero thing. Let’s get the mexican police to help us.”

“You owe me thirty bucks,” Bart whispered to Cassie, who scowled.

Fuming silently, Stiles stared down Jason. This was unlike him. The Jason Todd he knew before this mission would have been all for going to Mexico and saving his friends and family. But ever since the whole Nogitsune thing, which it had almost been a year!, Jason had been slightly overprotective of all of them. And by slightly, Stiles meant extremely.

“There’s no time!” Stiles exclaimed, “I’m going! I just came to let you know! Come on guys.”

“I’ll lock you all up,” Jason warned.

“Good luck with that. No metahuman cells here, or even Batman ones.”

“Then I’m going with you.”

“We were hoping you’d say that,” Cassie grinned, “Dick’s already on board. I think Tim and Damian said they were coming. Tim cause he wanted too, Damian to prove Stiles’ worth or something. Even Steph is coming down.”

“I hate you all,” Jason declared.

Now in Scott’s room, Stiles grabbed a bunch of clothes from Scott’s dirty clothes hamper for Derek (or Liam, there was no way the Beta would let them go without him) to sniff. Once he gathered all the ones he wanted, including a pair of boxers, Stiles made his way downstairs. The entire pack was already there, plus some of the batkids in their uniforms. Standing besides Dick was Damian, a scowl on his face with the mask firmly on, with Tim between Dick and Jason, also in his Red Robin attire. Stephanie was besides Cassie, in her Batgirl clothes. Then there was Liam, obviously trying to stay out of sight so that he could sneak along.   
“Why am I not surprised to see you Liam,” Stiles sighed, dropping the clothes. He was already in his Shadow Fox attire, mask not yet on however.

“You’re Shadow Fox?” Liam demanded.

“Yes. I thought we told you to stay behind.”

“He’s my alpha, I’m coming.”

“You can’t control yourself yet! You’ll be a liability!”

“I want to help save Scott!”

“If you’re coming, stay close to someone who can restrain you if something goes wrong.”

“Thank you!”

Behind him, Stiles could hear Damian’s little -tt- of disapproval. However Stiles could care less what his cousin thought of him. Giving a tiny nod to Derek, who sniffed one of Scott’s dirty socks, Stiles looked around at the others. Peter was there, next to Derek, as well as Braeden who had acquired a prison transport (possibly with the knowledge that Liam would try to come along). Then there was Jaime and Bart, standing slightly out of the way but still obviously part of the group. Jason had his helmet under his arm, leaning against the wall besides Dick. 

“We should get going. It’s a full moon and Kate might try the age-regression on Scott as well. If the ritual is successful she might be able to take his True Alpha abilities. Then again Scott doesn’t exactly have a mate either.” Peter smirked a little at the blushes that covered both Stiles and Derek’s cheeks.

“Is that why the ritual didn’t stick on Derek?” Jaime questioned.

“It didn’t stick the first time either. But then again Derek slowly lost his werewolfieness the first time around. Stiles and Derek weren’t mated until a lot later though.” Bart frowned and began muttering to himself.

“We have to wait for Lydia before we can go,” Stiles changed the subject quickly, “She’s getting something of Kira’s.”

“Call her, see where she is,” Braeden suggested.

For the first time in a long time, Stiles listened to someone who wasn’t actually a superhero. Fishing his phone out he dialed Lydia, listening to it ring. This was repeated for around five times, each time getting her voicemail. Frowning slightly he glanced up at the others, who watched him with varying degrees of concern.

“No answer?” Tim asked.

“Nothing,” Stiles agreed, “She’s just not there.”

“Tt, she probably just got lost,” Damian scowled.

“Dami,” Dick reprimanded.

“We need to get going. She can catch up with us later,” Braeden said.

“She’s not wrong,” Jason agreed.

“We can’t just leave her,” Stiles argued.

“I’ll call Mason, he’s already at the school for a study break. Maybe he can find Lydia,” Liam offered.

It wasn’t the best plan, but they couldn’t risk sending one of the others there as well. Even with Bart’s speed it’d take too long. Sighing softly, Stiles conceded. Then they began to split up into groups to get to Mexico to find Scott and, hopefully, Kira. Eyes searching for the best pairings, Stiles nodded slightly.

“Jaime and Cassie, you fly above us. Bart, run besides us. Peter and Stephanie ride together, Steph play music loud and ignore him okay? Damian, I assume you’re going to want to stay with Dick?” Damian only gave him a tut in response. “Alright. Jason, ride on your bike. I’ll go in the prisoner transport with Derek and Liam, seeing as I have the most experience with out of control teenage wolves.”

Everyone went to split up but we’re quickly stilled by Peter’s voice. Even Stiles stopped in his movements to get inside the van supplied by Braeden. 

“Remember, you might see human eyes behind those skulls but there is no humanity left inside.” Peter turned to a slightly terrified Liam. “Your fear will keep you alive. You do not fight berserkers to survive, you fight to kill.”

“We don’t kill,” Dick replied with a low growl.

“Not all of us have clean hands Dickiebird,” Jason answered solemnly, “Those things are not human.”

Night had fallen and Derek was strapping Liam into the metal holdings on the transport vehicle. Sitting next to his boyfriend, Stiles fit his mask over his face. The knowledge that his secret might be let out to his brothers was causing his hands to shake slightly, some energy sparking along the tips. One of Derek’s hand rested on his arm, which helped center him, as Derek handed Liam the triskellion. The shift would happen soon, Stiles knew that, but he wasn’t sure just how well this would hold Liam. After all it hadn’t held Jackson all those years ago, which was really only a year ago. It felt longer though.

“This is old, centuries old. It’s a powerful supernatural talisman,” Derek informed, falsely, to Liam, “it can help beta’s control their shift.”

Stiles managed to hide the glare from Liam, but knew Derek could feel it. How many times had hiding the truth from people caused even worse problems? Too many times to count. Besides, had it worked for Derek in the past? NO! Why did he think it would work for Liam, who had a lot more anger and anger issues than Derek had in the past. 

“Sure,” Stiles sighed.

The light from the full moon began to seep through the metal grate separating them from Braeden. In front of him Liam began to shift, fangs and nails elongating and eyes beginning to glow a molten gold. If he had been anyone besides who he was now, Stiles would’ve felt the suffocating grasp of fear, but he wasn’t anyone else and so he only felt concern. The out of control beta yanked at the chains and growled at them, snapping his teeth.

“Each spiral in the triskellion means something,” Derek tried to explain to Liam, “Alpha, Beta, and Omega. Just like the tattoo on my back, it reminds me that Beta’s can rise to Alpha’s and Alpha’s can fall to Beta’s.”

“Can Alpha’s become Omega’s?” Liam managed to force out.

“They can. Now use the mantra, each time you repeat it you feel yourself calming.”

Honestly Stiles wasn’t sure how true that was, but he wasn’t going to bring it up now. Especially when Liam seemed barely holding onto control, grasping onto the triskelion talisman like it was the only thing on earth. There was no way the beta wasn’t feeling pain from it either. That talisman was digging deep enough into his palms that, if he was human, the markings would be there for days.

“Alpha, Beta, Omega,” Liam repeated, “Alpha, Beta, Omega, Alpha, Beta, Omega…”

It wasn’t working. With a loud roar Liam broke one of the handcuffs, slashing out at Stiles. The somewhat-human-but-not-really dodged as the other cuff broke. Derek leapt forwards and pushed Liam back against the wall, causing the car too rock. This didn’t stop Liam from fighting, even as the Alpha tried to remind him to repeat the mantra.

“It’s not working!” Stiles exclaimed.

“Do you know any other mantra’s?!” Derek practically roared back.

Yes actually. “Liam! What are three things that cannot be long hidden!”

At first the beta didn’t listen, but when Stiles repeated the question again Liam practically sagged against Derek.

“The sun, the moon, the truth,” Liam muttered, “the sun, the moon, the truth…”

It seemed to be working, the beta sliding down in his seat. The glow in his eyes faded, the fangs and nails retreating, and the blood lust dying down. Everyone in the back let out a sigh of relief, Derek releasing his hold on Liam. Eventually Liam regained his humanity, breathing softly and seemingly repeating the mantra mentally.

“It worked, I thought… I thought I was going to tear you guys apart,” Liam muttered.

“That would’ve made for an awkward ride home,” Stiles sighed.

“Think you can bring that level of strength and control to the fight?” Derek questioned.

In response Liam flicked his claws out. A slightly crazed grin crossed Stiles’ face. With Liam under control this fight would be a lot easier. Not by much, seeing as most of the people here were human and didn’t exactly have any special abilities, but then again they were trained by Batman. That had to count for something. Standing to his feet when the van stopped, recognizing where they were, Stiles pulled out his whip. The doors flew open and Derek was ripped out so fast Stiles couldn’t even blink. Then he rushed out of the van, Liam not that far out. All he could see was blood and the Berserker. In a fit of anger Stiles thrust out his hands, feeling his bond with Derek weakening so fast it was as though a dam had burst, and a bolt of grey energy flew through the air. As soon as it connected to the Berserker it went up in smoke, completely obliterated. Silence greeted his actions but Stiles didn’t care. Weak though he was he rushed to Derek’s side.

“No, no, no.” There were Berserker’s everywhere, but Stiles only saw the dying form of his mate.

“Stiles!” Bart called from somewhere.

“You’re not dying on me.” Though Stiles could see the energy surrounding Derek fading away. “Not now.”

“I’m fine,” Derek said, despite the blood dribbling from his mouth, “Go find Scott. Go.” Everyone slowly dispersed, except for Stiles and Braeden (Bart had hesitated longer than the others before speeding after Jaime) who stayed by his side. “I’ll be right behind you. Save him.”

“Braeden, stay with him,” Stiles begged, getting to his feet.

Rushing past Jason, who seemed to be loving the explosions from killing the Berserker’s, and dodging Tim (who had been thrown by a Berserker) Stiles entered the abandoned church with Damian, the superpowered teens, and the actual pack. Everyone else was outside fighting against the Berserker’s. The bond with Derek had completely disappeared by now but Stiles was refusing to dwell on it, even if a few tears were beginning to form in his eyes.

Before he can issue any orders, a Berserker began to attack them. Any explosion this deep will cause a collapse so they had no choice but to run. Let’s just say getting chased wasn’t fun, even the speedster wasn’t willing to run at super speeds in this temple. They skidded to a stop in the middle of the altar room, Stiles getting Kira’s sword tossed to him from Cassie.

“Go find Scott,” Cassie told him, “Take Robin with you. We’ll keep the Berserker busy.”

“Don’t bring the building down on us,” Stiles begged.

“No promises Fox,” Bart replied, even as Peter leapt onto the Berserker.

Grabbing onto Damian, ignoring the angry yelling that he can fight, Stiles began to search the rest of the temple. A few turns down he ran into Kira, who was standing on her feet with an angry look in her eyes. The second she caught sight of him, and Damian, she rushed to his side and grabbed the edges of his costume.

“They turned Scott into a Berserker,” Kira growled angrily.

“Damian, stay with Kira,” Stiles ordered, “Shit, this is why Lydia couldn’t come.”

Before any arguments could leave Damian’s mouth, Stiles ran back down the tunnels. It seemed longer this time but Stiles knew, logically, that he was taking a shorter time to get back due to his speed. As he turned the last corner he noticed that Cassie had a bone dagger in her hand and was about to stab down on Scott’s face. Bart’s brow was furrowed from where he was standing in the corner.

“Stop!” Stiles shouted, but Cassie was bringing it down already.

With some quick thinking Stiles charged Kira’s sword with energy and sliced the bone dagger in half. It turned to dust and he ducked and rolled, the momentum from his swing bringing him down to the ground. Once he popped up he gasped for air before staring straight at Bart as he said.

“It’s Scott!” 

Bart’s face practically crumpled and Stiles immediately felt awful for looking at him that way. It probably didn’t help that everyone immediately turned to him for an explanation. They could get that out of him later as Scott broke free of the holds from Peter and Liam, charging at them once again. Ducking and rolling to the side, Stiles readied the sword in his hand. While he couldn’t aim to kill anymore, maiming was still okay.

“Scott!” Stiles called, trying to bring his friend back without any physical harm.

The hesitation was all Scott needed as he threw Stiles across the room. Everyone was practically tossed aside, Jaime landing painfully on top of Stiles as well, as Scott grabbed Liam around the throat and lifted him into the air. Fear for Liam grasped Stiles’ heart and he pushed Jaime, who was unconscious, off of him. Getting shakily to his feet, the energy he used to kill the Berserker earlier still not fully back, Stiles stared at Scott in desperation.

“Scott, please. It’s me, it’s Liam. Scott, you’re not a monster. You’re a werewolf, like me!” Liam begged.

It seemed to get through to Scott, as he began to lower Liam to the ground. A struggle began to took place and Scott lifted his hands to his body and pulled at the armour covering it. Each bone piece fell to the ground with a clatter, before he pulled the bear skull of his head. Energy exploded outwards, nearly knocking Stiles over but Damian, who entered the room, pulled him up. Standing there, at the epicenter of the energy explosion, stood Scott.

“You were the only one,” Scott growled at Peter, turning away from the pack, “Besides Argent, that knew about the connection between the Berserker’s and werejaguars. You taught Kate, didn’t you?”

“I did, for my family power to be inherited by me and not some idiotic teenage boy! Your refusal to kill is a weakness Scott! You don’t deserve that power!” Peter exclaimed, shifting. 

It was disgusting and horrifying to watch. Bones creaked and broke, head twisting. His ears began to enlarge and point, his forehead forming a triangle. Then there were his fangs, becoming longer and pointier then Stiles had ever seen before. 

Damian went straight at Peter, his own sword raised high. With a shout he began to fight, but was quickly slapped away by the werewolf. However the assassin raised boy quickly got to his feet but was blocked by Cassie from fighting again. There was lots of angry shouting but Stiles ignored it, going to fight against Peter himself.

“Don’t Stiles,” Scott warned, “This is my fight.”

“If you’re sure,” Stiles replied reluctantly.

“I’m sure.”   
“You were my beta first Scott,” Peter reminded him, “It was my bite that changed your life and my bite that can end it.”

“You better end it cause you won’t have another chance.”

The two leapt into the air together, but Stiles was distracted by something else. Energy, Derek’s rich purple, was filling their bond stronger than before. This wasn’t his fight, that was upstairs. Glancing back, he made up his mind and quickly ran through the temple. By the time he was out again, the place was a maze and some of the tunnels they had used at first had collapsed due to the fighting, it was morning. The others had caught up to him and Stiles was just staring, as Derek was there alive. Blinking slowly he noticed that Derek was also wearing different clothes. The energy of the temple was also surrounding the alpha, healing him still. A small grin crossed his face as he realized what had happened. The gods were smiling down on Derek today it seemed.

“You’re alive,” Stiles said softly, staring at Derek as the elder alpha stood in front of him.   
“So are you,” Derek replied with a small smile.   
“I felt you die…”

“I’m alive.”

In response, Stiles hugged him tightly. Everyone else could wait till later.

**_**********BATWOLF**********_ **

The entire batfamily was there, except Bruce and Alfred, sitting in a circle in the middle of the living room. It was only them in the house, as the superpowered teenagers that weren’t part of the batfamily had gone out to do one last thing before they left for summer break. Even Barbara was there, in her wheelchair, as she had decided to come ‘help’ them pack up for the return trip to Gotham. All of them were in civilian clothes, even Damian, with a bowl of popcorn in the middle.

“Stilinski, you are an acceptable cousin,” Damian decided.

“He’s your brother too Damian,” Tim pointed out.

“Tt.”

While he didn’t need Damian’s approval, it was touching that he had gotten it. As far as he knew, Dick was the only one Damian really approved of. There was a mutual respect thing between Damian and Jason (and Barbara) and Damian just outright disliked Stephanie and Tim. Then again, Damian just seemed to judge everyone by their fighting abilities or just judged them period. There was also that thing between Jason and Talia that Stiles wasn’t sure if Damian actually knew about soooooo.

“Are we not going to talk about the thing?” Dick asked, waving his hands.

“The thing?” Jason demanded, stuffing a handful of popcorn in his mouth before stealing Dick’s soda.

“You know. Stiles managing to make a Berserker disintegrate without touching it!”

“Please no,” Stiles begged.

“What’s this?” Barbara demanded.

Instead of facing his siblings, Stiles grabbed the entire bowl of popcorn and flopped backwards. There was the sound of ruffling before he got pulled upwards by Dick, the asshole, and practically forced to sit upwards. Off by Barbara, Stephanie was excitedly talking about what had happened. This conversation could wait, a long long time, in Stiles’ opinion. Even Bruce didn’t know about this. He knew about the spark but he didn’t know it manifested into something scarily alike metahuman abilities. If Bruce found out… then fired him… Stiles didn’t know what he’d do.

“How long has it been going on?” Tim interrogated.

“You mean the energy part or…?”

“There’s more?” Dick exclaimed.

“Well, the ability didn’t start out energy manipulation,” Stiles sighed, deciding it best to just answer their questions, “They kinda didn’t settle on any one thing. I had telekinesis for a day, pyrokinesis, and a few other things. It only settled on ergokinesis, aka energy manipulation, the first trip to Mexico.”

“You’ve known about this that long and you didn’t tell us,” Stephanie demanded hurt.

Now that just made him feel guilty. Instead of responding Stiles lowered his head, deciding it best to keep the pack and trio’s knowledge about it a secret as long as he could. Even Damian, who always seemed to let his opinion known, kept quiet. Disappointment practically wafted off of his family, which only made the guilt sink it’s claws into him deeper.

“Who knows?” Jason finally spoke up. “The kids didn’t seem that shocked to see it.”

“The pack, Bart, Jaime, and Cassie all know about it,” Stiles whispered, “I couldn’t control it and I’ve nearly lost control a few times…”

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Barbara asked.

“I was afraid you’d tell Bruce… no superpowers in Gotham remember?”

“You’re his nephew!” Jason exclaimed, “He’s not going to kick you out!”

“What is it?” Tim questioned. “Your power. Is it a metahuman thing?”

Silently Stiles shook his head. Everyone looked surprised at that, even Damian. And that little bugger always pretended nothing surprised him, according to the many complaints he got from the birds that still lived at home. Biting his lip, Stiles decided to explain exactly how he knew that and why.

“The Deadpool. It only showed supernatural creatures on it. My name was on it, none of the other superpowered heroes were on it. As far as I can tell my ability is a spark, which has been referenced a few times by Bruce, the Nogitsune, Deaton, Zatara, hell even Clark! I’m guessing that whatever it is, it was awoken by the Nogitsune possessing me,” Stiles sighed and ran a hand down his face.

“We can ask Zatanna to check it out,” Dick suggested.

“No. I can control it.”

“Energy manipulation, does that mean you can see auras?” Barbara asked.

“Yeah…”   
“What do ours look like?”

That was a change in topic, however a welcome one. Giving a small shrug Stiles began to focus on his family in front of him. Slowly the auras began to appear. His own grey one, tainted from his time possessed by the nogitsune, spread out around him. Everyone faded slightly, their auras taking hold. Around Jason was an angry blood red, swirling with black, touched by Death itself. Then there was Dick’s, the royal blue of his Nightwing costume with some silvery tints. Stephanie besides him a soft lavender, practically bubbling around her. A crimson surrounded Tim, clinging tight to him but curiously spreading out to touch the ones around him. An strong green simmered around Damian, the colour reminding Stiles of the lazarus pit, pulsating outwards occasionally in a challenging manner. Lastly, Barbara had a matrix green around her constantly shifting and moving. It reminded him of technology instead of the lazarus of Damian’s green. 

“Well?” Barbara asked.

“Both Jason and Tim have red, Jason’s more bloody and Tim’s more crimson. Jason also has some black mixed in. Dick has a royal blue, Steph is lavender, Damian has lazarus pit green, and you have a more technology kinda green,” Stiles shrugged.

“Can you see yours?” Tim interrogated.

“Yeah.”

“And?”

“Grey, tainted by the Nogitsune’s touch,” Stiles replied, “Any sort of technology has pure white energy before you ask.”

“Are you going to tell Bruce?” Stephanie asked.

Stiles wasn’t sure of the answer. If he told Bruce it’d be this summer, but he also wanted to know for himself what exactly his ability was. Spark wasn’t exactly much to go on. Maybe he could talk to Constantine, even if the man was one of the most elusive people Stiles knew. There had to be someone that knew what exactly a spark was, in the supernatural sense. Deaton wouldn’t be forth coming and Stiles had already gone through the Bestiary looking for answers. 

“Eventually,” Stiles replied softly, looking away.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: So, fairly certain this is one of my longer chapters.
> 
> Stiles: It is.
> 
> Me: Anyways IMPORTANT NOTICE PLEASE READ!!! Due to the fact that Season 6B hasn’t come out yet and I’m going faster on this then I intended, this is going on temporary hiatus until Season 6B actually airs. That being said, I will be working on it on and off until season 6B happens. You are all welcome to yell at me when season 6B comes close so I actually do remember to work on this story.
> 
> Stiles: She put a lot of thought into this.
> 
> Me: I did. So this is on temporary hiatus for around 3-4 months.
> 
> Review Request Here → TEMPORARY HIATUS FOR 3-4 MONTHS


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: Hiatus officially over. Welcome back my humble companions.
> 
> Stiles: I was hoping you would forget about this.
> 
> Me: Forget about it? Dear Stiles, how could I ever forget this story. Also, if you guys like Young Justice and the Batfamily you guys should read my other one shot stories and the one story I wrote. Anyways, let’s get started.
> 
> Disclaimer: When it all falls, when it all falls down, I’ll be your fire when the lights go out. When there’s no one, no one else around, we’ll be two souls in a ghost town.
> 
> 3rd Person POV

**** Pain, everywhere and anywhere. Cackles surrounded him, loud laughter and free giggling. Only two villains in Gotham had those distinct laughters. Yet Stiles couldn’t remember what brought him into their  _ tender  _ care. Something warm and wet was seeping between his fingers, pressed against his side. Where had that come from? The same warm and wet feeling was between his legs as well, on the part of his thigh that had the J on it. Yet his mind was too fuzzy to truly focus on it, like someone had stuffed him full of cotton.

Each sense came back slowly. Blurry eyesight cleared until he could see the green haired maniac and the jester at his side. Joker and Harley Quinn respectively. Then the ringing in his ear stopped, allowing him to fully hear the laughter from the two clowns and the ticking of what he knew to be a bomb. Taste followed, bring the metallic taste of blood inside his mouth. Hopefully it was just from a cut inside his mouth rather than internal bleeding. Scent returned slowly, bringing the sharp scent of blood and the dirt scent of gunpowder. There was also the strong scent of gasoline. Lastly came feeling, which Stiles could have done without.

It came slowly, starting from the tingling at his toes. Then came the burning of his thighs, confirming that the Joker had cut there. Once again he added salt, Stiles could feel the fine grains against his fingers, into the open wound. Salty tears traced down his face, entering the cuts there and causing them to sting as well. Oddly his side was numb, where his hand pressed against a wound. One arm burnt with a pain reminiscent of a broken bone. However as both arms were getting used to keep him from bleeding out, Stiles decided to leave it.

“Puddin’!” Harley exclaimed loudly, the shrieking of her voice sending a sharp pang into Stiles head, “Our guest is awake!”

“Thank you darlin’,” Joker drawled, pushing the jester out of the way as he strode up to Stiles, “How ya doin’ Fox?”

“Peachy, you?” Stiles ground out.

“Now now, let’s not be like that. You took our favorite bird from us, gotta keep the punishment going. Then we can add the pun to it.”

The pun in punishment, was Joker really saying that? Yet the favorite bird part added a memory to Stiles, which in turn brought the whole thing rushing back. He was in Gotham, that much was obvious. Yet how he had gotten captured had eluded him, until now.

Damian, Robin, had disappeared while on patrol. Tomorrow, or was it today, the team was supposed to meet up to go back to Beacon Hills. Yet Shadow Fox had been called in to help in the search. Somehow he had been the one to stumble across their operation. Damian had been fighting hard against Harley and Joker, but he was slowly losing. There was no way to guess what the two were going to do next. After a quick press to his utility belt, sending out a tracking of their location, Shadow Fox had joined in the fight. The two together had given the rest of the Bat’s and Bird’s time to get to them, but Stiles had been taken. Which brought them to now.

“Pay attention to Mistah J!” Harley slapped him, bringing more blood into Stiles’ mouth.

Silently Stiles swished the blood around thoughtfully, before spitting it on Harley’s face. The jester spluttered and stepped back, wiping the blood off her pasty white skin. This enraged the Joker and Stiles doubled over at the punch in his gut. Hot breath rasped in his ear and Stiles could imagine the Joker channeling his anger into a smile, one of his more famous deranged one.

“You’re gonna regret that Foxy,” Joker growled, “Harley, get me my favorite knife.”

“Yes Puddin’.”

“Oh and Harley, let’s heat it up a bit.”

There was high pitched giggling as Harley disappeared around the corner. A moment later she returned, Joker’s J shaped knife hot enough it steamed. Joker took it from her before pressing the hot side against Stiles’ cheek, burning it. A soft, muffled, whimper pressed past Stiles’ lips. Then it was removed and he inhaled deeply before the knife was dug into the meat of his calf. Unprepared for this Stiles cried out loudly. Tears pressed out of his eyes.

“Now now little foxy, this is only the beginning.” It burnt but Stiles refused to let his body move. Not now. If he did the knife would only cause more damage. “We’re gonna have a little fun. Isn’t that right darlin’?”

“Uh puddin’,” Harley sounded almost scared.

“Not now Harley.” The knife pressed deeper and Stiles could feel the control on his powers slipping. The control that Stiles had work tirelessly with Constantine and Jason to keep.

“Puddin’!”

There was a scream and the movement of the knife stopped. Eyesight whited out and Stiles felt himself floating, the pain of the knife disappearing. In fact, all the pain was disappearing. Then he was falling. Falling fast. Falling from the white. It all came slamming back and he cried out, seeing auras around him. All familiar. Yet he couldn’t place them and his energy lashed out.

“Whoa! It’s just us!” someone exclaimed.

“There’s so much blood,” a feminine voice whispered.

“Is it all his?” another asked.

“Shadow Fox, calm down.” That voice was gruff but easy to place as his mind caught up with the rest of him.

“B,” Stiles slurred, eyesight flickering from auras to normal.

“Let Hood and Batgirl pick you up. Red Robin, Nightwing go check the surrounding perimeter. See if you can find any sign of them. Black Bat, Robin start collecting samples of anything and everything,” Batman ordered.

“What will you do?!” Robin demanded.

There was no verbal response, but Stiles was fairly certain there had been a physical one. Head swimming, Stiles allowed Red Hood and Batgirl lift him up. The two carried him into the Batmobile, laying him down in the back. Neither one of them waited for further orders, though he was fairly certain they were communicating with Oracle over the comms, before they brought him back to the cave. 

Everything after that was hazy, probably from anesthesia or some other drug Alfred used on him. Yet when he was awake once again all that was left were scars on his body. Well, he had a cast on his arm which was definitely still broken. That was an easy test to make. His healing ability also wasn’t as good as the other superpowered humans, but it was enough to heal him from minor injuries. Not without scars however. The full extent he wouldn’t be able to tell until he got time to check himself over.

“Master Mieczyslaw, I see you’re finally awake,” Alfred greeted.

“Yeah…” Stiles whispered, debating whether or not he should test standing up yet.

“That burn on your cheek is fully healed.” A penlight was flashed in his eyes and Stiles blinked in shock. “Your concussion seems to no longer be an issue. I would still like to keep you overnight.”   
“Where are the others?”

“Young Master Damian is at school, Master Dick and Master Jason returned to Beacon Hills this morning with the rest of the kids in their charge-” 

“What?!” Stiles slipped out of the bed, ignoring the irritated look Alfred gave him, “They left without me?”

“The very well ought to! Now sit down,” Alfred ordered, stepping in his way, “You are very injured.”   
“Was, was very injured.”   
“You might be mostly healed Master Mieczyslaw, but you aren’t fully. That’s not even including mental health. Now, sit down.”

“But the mission…”   
“Can wait another day.”

This time Stiles allowed Alfred to steer him to a seat. Without another word he allowed Alfred to check him over, answering the questions softly whenever one was asked. There was no small talk, as there was no need to be. At some point Bruce entered the cave, only to sit silently at the computer. 

“Keep that arm rested and take your medicine,” Alfred told him, “All your other injuries scarred over due to your healing capabilities. Keep watch on the concussion, there might not be any signs of it but I don’t want to take any chances. Oh, and Master Mieczyslaw, do take a shower. You are absolutely filthy.”

That was already the plan, but at least this time he got permission. As he gathered clothes for the shower, not really startled to find himself in only boxers and a t-shirt, Stiles checked his phone. There were multiple messages from his friends, all of them probably having heard what had happened. Though most likely it wasn’t the truth, even the superhero trio wouldn’t get told what actually happened. If they did it was almost definitely a very brief version. Stiles got hurt on a mission, that would be the extent.

**From Alpha Puppy:**

**Dude you okay?**

Stiles didn’t bother with a response, as that one was a dumb question.

**From Sourwolf:**

**The other’s won’t give me much information about what happened to you. Get better soon, I don’t know how much longer I can stand the others sulking.**

That one brought a grin to his face so Stiles responded with a thumbs up, deciding not to deal with any actual texts. Besides, texting one handed was hard. For now he was only going to communicate with minor, small, text messages. Nothing too big or too much of a hassle. Probably only emojis… definitely only emojis. All the other text messages were basic other, get well soon, or, what happened?, text messages so Stiles ignored them. 

Hot water rushed down his back, phone playing music on the counter top. A soft sigh escaped his lips and Stiles made sure the plastic bag was keeping his cast dry. Then he began to check over his body. Head felt fine, not even the littlest bit sore. His uninjured arm trailed down his chest, feeling the normal scars that were there originally. It stopped over his stomach and began to check his arms. The finger trailed over the tattoo on his right bicep. 

There was a new scar, Stiles noted as he returned to his torso, on his left side. It was big and gruesome, from what he couldn’t remember. Though he knew it was from the Joker. The question was what weapon he used. His fingers dug into it, remembering how just a few hours ago (he assumed) there was blood gushing from it. Now that felt like just a memory. It took a few seconds for him to get a hold of himself and continue. As his fingers brushed his thigh, where there only used to be the scar of a J, Stiles realized the Joker added to it. Stiles couldn’t deal with that so he continued, opting to return to that later in his inspection. There was one more new scar, deep in the meat of his calf. It was ugly and puckered, bright red and angry. Not very large width wise, but deep and gross. Just feeling it made Stiles remember the pain and he took a few minutes to regain his bearing.

There were no other scars, so he returned to the one he felt earlier. Heart beating in his chest, Stiles moved his leg so that he could read it. Of course it had to be words. A soft sob escaped his lips as he traced the ugly scarring: J O K E R S. It was written in the same style as the J was. Deliberate and shaky. A way to prove, perhaps, that the scar had been made by the Joker. 

“Stilinski?” someone knocked on his door, but only one person called him by his last name in this house. Damian must be very concerned if he was asking after him. “You okay in there Stilinski? Father and Drake are concerned.”

“Fine, I’m fine.” The cracking in his voice betrayed him.

“Tt, liar.”

“I’ll be out in a sec.”

Hand flailing, Stiles shut off the shower. For a few seconds he lay there, wet and shivering. Then he pulled himself together and got to his feet. Out. His mind spoke to him. Get out. He needed to get out of the shower. Otherwise he wouldn’t move on his own. 

Shakily he rose. It was slow moving getting to his towel. Everything was on autopilot, drying himself off before dressing. Not once did he look at the scarred writing on his thigh. That... He wouldn’t be able to handle that. Not now. Possibly not ever. The Joker marked him. Forever. It was a part of him. Something he would never be able to rid himself of.

“Stilinski!”

Without another word Stiles opened the door, toweling his hair with one hand. Even if his healing ability was better than an average human, a speedster would still beat him healing wise. That meant he would scar. He would need a cast for a few weeks. 

“What?” Stiles understood now why the others called him various demon nicknames.

“Tt,” Damian tutted, “Father requires you in the cave.”   
“Yeah, yeah. I’ll be down in a sec.”

“And Stilinski… thank you.”

Before Stiles could respond Damian took off. Honestly he was stumped. Then a little smile crossed his face, even as he tossed the towel into the wastebasket and went down to the cave. 

Bruce was still in front of the computer. Had he even moved? Probably not. That was a bit disconcerting to be honest. Maybe the rumors were true. Maybe Batman was a vampire. Though didn’t vampires need to move, like humans did? Statue. Batman was a statue. Or his imitation was just on point.

“Sit.” So he does speak.

“If you’re gonna get mad…”

“I’m not mad. Are you okay?”   
“Alfred says my arm will heal within a week or so.”   
“That’s not what I meant.”   
Silence. Stiles wasn’t sure what to say. One wrong word and he’d be benched for an undetermined amount of time. Time that Stiles wasn’t willing to give. Shadow Fox needed to run with the pack. The pack needed Shadow Fox. Otherwise… otherwise what was the point? What was the point of everything? The point of going to Beacon Hills. Sure, the others could do it, but it wouldn’t be the same. They were family now.

“I can handle it.”

“Can you?”

“I’ll be fine. I’ll have the others.” When Bruce didn’t say anything Stiles continued. “We’ve gone through worse.”   
“Together. You were alone Stiles.”   
“So was Jason.”

There was a miniscule flinch, “Jason isn’t exactly a good example.”

“Neither are you. Or Dick. Barbara. Steph. Cass. Damian. None of us are prime examples. But I can handle it.”

“You leave when your cast is taken off.”

“But!”

“No arguments. Cast taken off, you can go. Not before, only then.”

“Fine.”

**_****************BATWOLF***********************_ **

The full moon shone above them. Light cascaded down onto them, acting like a flashlight for the map spread out on the Jeep. A pen was held in Stiles’ hand, hovering over the map. While his arm was wrapped up, there was no longer a cast on it. However Stiles cheated on the talk with Bruce (it had been recorded) and took the cast off himself. Alfred had re-wrapped it but Stiles had convinced (blackmailed) Bruce into letting him go. There was no cast. Therefore Stiles could go to Beacon Hills. 

“Apartments there are expensive,” Scott reminded him.

“Hello? Trust fund baby. Dude, I can cover it,” Stiles said.

“Uh, no. You’re not paying for my half of the rent, much less my schooling.”

“Scott.”

“No.”

“How about Berkley?”   
“The jeep wouldn’t be able to handle all the changes of clutch. It would burn right through.”   
“Aren’t you a trust fund baby?”

“Dude, I’m not doing that to my baby.”

There was a soft scoff and Stiles sighed as he looked up. The edge of the pen tapped rhythmically against the map. It was calming, in a sense. All his nerves were still on edge from what had happened. As far as he knew, there was no word on the Joker. That could be, however, because the others didn’t want him stressing over it. If anything this just added to it. No knowledge. Nothing on the Joker, on what was happening. 

“Scott,” Stiles started hesitantly, “Are you even sure if you want to go to College together, with all of us coming as well. There’s no way I’m quitting my vigilante life… I mean this is a vision, a beautiful vision-”

He was cut off, “Deaton explained to me something called the regression to the mean. Life can’t ever be all bad or all good. Things eventually have to come back to the middle. Things have been really good, nothing has tried to kill us in the past six months.” Stiles shifted uncomfortably. While that may be true in Beacon Hills, Gotham was a whole other story. “We’ve been in the middle, which means…”   
“The scale has to tip. I wonder if enough time has passed.”

“YES!”

Honestly Stiles had forgotten that Liam was there. It seemed that the younger boy had gotten lax on the practices Jason had given him. That had caused a few issues. For example, him running naked through out town the last full moon.

“‘A Monstrous Dog-boy Running Around the Streets of Beacon Hill Naked’ is still top ten in trending,” Stiles commented.

“It was one slip up-”

“It’s still trending.”

“-and I’m  _ fine _ ,” Liam growled the last word.

Briefly Stiles’ eyes flicked to Liam’s clenched fists. Blood was trailing down his hand and dripping onto the ground. How Scott didn’t notice, even as he unchained the young boy, was a mystery to Stiles. Or maybe he did notice and just didn’t want to bring it up. After all, it wasn’t that long ago that Scott himself was using pain to keep himself human. Even if it wasn’t the best way to go about it.

“We should get going,” Scott mentioned, “We have a little more than enough time to get Liam home and then to the thing.”

“If there’s traffic we’ll be there right on time,” Stiles agreed, packing up his stuff.

After loading in the car, Stiles turned it over and began to drive. It was dark and stormy suddenly. This set Stiles slightly on edge but he pushed it aside. Only a storm, even if the last storm this bad was due to the Darach. Then again, only a few minutes ago it had only been cloudy. Yet that could also be because they were on the outside of town.

“What are you guys doing tonight?” Liam demanded.

“It’s a senior thing,” Stiles reached back and ruffled Liam’s hair, “You’re only an underclassman.”

“Dude.” Liam sat back with a pout, fixing his hair.

“I have a little brother, he bites me whenever I ruffle his hair. You’re gonna have to deal.”

“Not cool.”

“I don’t have any cell service,” Scott mentioned.

Before Stiles could respond with a logical and well thought out explanation (basically that his carrier sucks) the jeep sputtered to a stop. A soft growl escaped his lips and Stiles grabbed the car repair kit before climbing out. Any and all remarks Scott could think up were easily shot down at the glare sent his way. It filled Stiles with a satisfied feeling. 

The hood lifted easily and Stiles peered in. Since he had only returned this morning, he hadn’t had time to give the Jeep a proper repair since it’s last breakdown. Currently it was getting held together with lots, and lots (and lots), of duct tape. There was a judging look sent his way by Scott but Stiles ignored it, trying to figure out exactly what was wrong. 

“Trust fund baby?” Scott asked.

“Hey, before I left I didn’t have time to fix it. I didn’t have time today either,” Stiles replied.

“When are you going to fix it?”   
“If nothing happens, within a few days. If shit happens, who knows,” Stiles replied, “Anyways, it doesn’t actually look like anything is actually wrong.”

“The entire engine is covered with duct tape.”

“Excellent deduction Sherlock.”

Leaning in, Stiles rested his hand on top of the engine. There was suddenly a surge of energy behind him. It traveled through the ground, acting like lightning in the way it moved, before moving up into his body. His aura extended out of his hand and the silvery blue of the energy of the lightning went into the engine. The jeep’s lights turned on and the engine turned over. 

“We need to pick up Cassie,” Stiles reminded them, “So we gotta get going.”

Now that the jeep was working, they got there in time to find Cassie throwing a tree out of the road. Without it being said Scott climbed into the back, forcing Liam over. The blonde climbed in, pushing back the hood of her wet sweatshirt. Then she turned up the heat seconds later. Living on a tropical island made cold so much worse for her. 

“Where are we going now?” Liam asked from the back.

“To drop you off at the hospital and pick up Jaime. Bart is meeting us at the thing,” Stiles replied.

“Bart’s my age!”

“Bart’s a senior,” Cassie spoke up, “And he’s already graduated under a different name.”

Thankfully neither Scott nor Liam asked for more information. It was a quick drive to the hospital. They parked outside and Stiles pulled up his red hoodie. All of them sprinted across the rainy parking lot into the hospital. There they ran into Jaime, who was standing besides Derek. Without another word Stiles went to his boyfriend’s side. The two embraced and Stiles watched their auras mingle together as Liam went to ask about his step dad.

“What’re you doing here?” Stiles asked.

“Jaime needed a ride. Jason is swamped with police work and Dick is trapped in a traffic jam. You doing Senior Scribe tonight?” Derek asked.

Stiles hummed the affirmative as Derek nuzzled his nose into his hair. This always calmed him, even if he didn’t need it. It was easy for him to see and feel their mating bond, especially after the whole dying incident. In fact, it was stronger after that. The swirling of their auras, a mix of rich purple and tainted grey. It was mesmerizing and beautiful.

“He’s in surgery and won’t be out for a few hours. You could take me with you,” Liam suggested.

“Show me your hands.” That answered Stiles question from earlier. When Liam didn’t move Scott repeated the sentence.

This time even Derek looked up, his arms still around Stiles’ chest. Blood still caked Liam’s hands, both new and old. There were claw marks deep into his palm, from Liam’s own claws. Silently Scott inspected them and Stiles felt Derek rumble low into his chest. A gentle blush was on Liam’s face and he was stuttering explanations. 

“You’re still learning. This is a sign of strength. You’re struggling but you’re overcoming it,” Scott praised.

“I usually use music, but it doesn’t always work,” Liam explained softly, examining his own hands.

“You’re stronger than I was at that age. One of the strongest werewolves I’ve ever seen at that age,” Derek complemented, breaking away from Stiles, “Even stronger than Scott.”

“I wouldn’t-” Scott started.

“He’s stronger than you,” Stiles said before Scott could say anything, “At least, when you were a sophomore.”

“Probably will be when he’s a senior.”

Scott walked the other way, muttering as he checked his phone. That was another issue. Kira was supposed to meet them here and yet she hadn’t arrived yet. It was starting to worry Stiles. Then there was a strike of lightning outside and a surge of energy, reminding Stiles that she was probably caught in traffic. 

Senior Scribe was supposed to be normal. Something to bounce him back into everything. Despite being physically healed, mentally he needed stability. Stability, ha. With werewolves? More like as much stability as he could get being Shadow Fox, the mate of the Alpha of the McCall-Hale pack, and the adopted son and nephew of Bruce Wayne.That wasn’t much stability but it’d have to do. Senior Scribe was to be that first step and it was already falling apart.

“I can’t get in contact with Kira,” Scott announced, looking over at the others.

“How much have you talked to her since she left for New York?” Cassie asked.

“Not much.”

“Dude, you left the door wide open for other guys when you told her to have fun on her trip,” Stiles exclaimed, almost jokingly.

“As in sex,” Cassie elaborated.

“I know that!” Scott snapped, despite the pink on his cheeks.

Melissa approached them, already in her scrubs. Hair was pulled up in a ponytail and she had her phone in her hand. This just confirmed what Stiles thought earlier, as he caught a glimpse of a traffic report. A quick glance at Derek, Stiles stepped forward to join Melissa beside Scott. 

“There’s a jackknifed tractor trailer on Highway 115, it’s caused a huge pile-up. Kira is probably stuck there,” Melissa replied.

“I’ll go get her, you guys meet me at senior scribe,” Scott ordered, “Both Kira and I will be there.”   
“I’ll take your word for it,” Stiles replied, “We could always send Cassie or Jaime?”

“Shush,” Derek told him softly, “He wants to be her knight in shining armour.”

“Fine.”

Thankfully Scott was already gone. After exchanging a quick kiss with Derek, Stiles ushered both Cassie and Jaime to the jeep. It was a short ride to the school. The rain battered the car heavily and Stiles had to keep his eyes on the road. It was a battle against the elements, which Stiles won as he parked the jeep. Both Jaime and Cassie got out before Stiles did.

“Whattookyouguyssolong?!” Bart was suddenly there, clinging to Jaime’s arm. Stiles got out a second later, “Isthisrain?Ihaven’texperiencedmuchrainbefore.”

“Respira, Bart. Breathe. Ve más despacio,” Jaime ordered, “Slow down.”

“Sorry.”

“You haven’t experienced rain before?” Stiles asked, ushering them underneath the bridge. The memory of Aiden dying here hurt, but Stiles pushed it back. “Well, here it is.”   
“What took you guys so long?” Bart swatted away Jaime’s hand when the older tried to brush a few wet strands out of his face.

“We had to pick up Cassie, drop off Liam and grab Jaime, then make our way here,” Stiles reminded him.

“You’re soaked cariño!” Jaime exclaimed.

“I like rain,” Bart decided, still swatting at Jaime.

As the others chatted, mostly Jaime mothering Bart with Cassie adding her two cents, Stiles checked his phone for any news. So far Scott hadn’t texted him since he let Stiles know that he was leaving his house. The other seniors had started arriving and Stiles felt himself growing anxious. At some point Cassie had joined him, slightly away from Bart and Jaime. A quick glance over at the other two showed Stiles that Jaime had wrapped Bart up in his grey hoodie. The youngest was still complaining, which amused Stiles to a point, as Jaime was just muttering under his breath in spanish at Bart. From the little bits Stiles could catch he could tell Jaime was not impressed with Bart allowing himself to get soaked in the rain.

“You okay? You seem a little on edge,” Cassie commented.

“I asked a few members of my family about their high school friends. Bruce kindly reminded me he was really only good friends with Harvey Dent, who is now Two Face. The others don’t really talk to them anymore, except Dick and Barbara but that’s because Babs is practically part of the family,” Stiles admitted softly.

“You’re scared that’s gonna happen to us and the pack,” Cassie commented, “Well I can tell you a fact that the four of us will definitely be stuck with each other for a long time.”

“You know you are part of the pack, you and Jaime and Bart.”

“I know.” Cassie gave a little wry grin. 

“I don’t want to lose the friendship I have here. If I’ve already found the best people in my life, why am I not just trying to stay with them?”

Before Cassie could reply, Jaime and Bart came over. Then Cassie seemed to hear something and she crouched down, ready for an attack. Someone came out of the shadows at them and Cassie lunged forward, going low and using the person’s momentum against them. Bart cried out, suddenly appearing in front of the person on the ground. Adrenaline lowering Stiles grinned sheepishly at the sight of Liam on the ground.

“What’re you doing here?!” Cassie demanded.

“Scott’s in trouble!” Liam shouted at them, rubbing his shoulder in pain.

They only glance at each other once before rushing off. Obviously Bart would get there first, being the fastest. Liam was the second fastest and so followed Bart. Stiles put on his mask as he ran, unfurling his whip from up his sleeve. Cassie and Jaime jogged on either side of Stiles. As they ran around the corner, where they heard the fight, they came just in time to see Bart thrown across the room and Liam easily downed. Summoning energy into his hands and down his whip, making it deadlier than it already was, Stiles lashed out.    
Scott was on the ground, so was another werewolf that Stiles didn’t recognize. Blue talons, that Stiles felt the energy of, were embedded into Scott’s gut. The energy from the talons was trying to take Scott’s, but they were fighting against each other. It seemed that Scott’s was winning and Stiles held off Cassie and Jaime. Jaime already was in his Blue Beetle armour. As Bart went to get up, Scott’s energy won the battle and his eyes glowed the true alpha red. With a quick movement, Scott snapped the arm of the man. Blue talons fell to the ground, their light flickering and eventually going out. Stiles could tell that the talons energy was just dormant now, not gone.

“Stay, and I’ll keep breaking your bones and maybe even set my friends here on you. Or you can run back to wherever you crawled out from,” Scott offered.

The man pulled away and ran off, Bart looking ready to run after him but stilled from a single look. Instead the speedster appeared at Jaime’s side, his goggles on his face. None of them had taken off their masks, or removed the armour, as Stiles hadn’t done so. They didn’t know the other werewolf, didn’t trust him. Hopefully Scott would understand this and use their code names, which he always did if they were wearing the costumes. Yet he might forget, except with Jaime, since they weren’t fully in costume.

Then the werewolf shifted into his human form, the sideburn fading and eyes returning to their normal color. He seemed familiar, but Stiles couldn’t place him. Not well at least. The new person looked between them all and Stiles was silently grateful that their masks, goggles, and armour were all equipped with scent dampeners. No one with enhanced senses could smell them, even if they were just wearing a single part of their costumes.

“Scott, where’s Stiles?” the newcomer asked.

It was only due to his extensive training that Stiles didn’t react. He was also very thankful that Scott was too much in shock at the person in front of them that his eyes didn’t flick over. The other heroes sent a quick glance in his direction but Stiles was focusing on Bart. Despite being a speedster, by definition unable to stay still, Bart was like a statue. In fact, Bart looked absolutely terrified. Obviously Bart knew what was going to happen, but from past experience Stiles knew the younger wouldn’t tell them anything.

“Who are you?” Cassie snapped, on edge and ready to attack.

“I knew Scott and Stiles from third grade,” the newcomer explained, though Stiles noticed that he hadn’t mentioned that Stiles had left before the third quarter ended.

“Theo…” Scott breathed out.

“I moved away but then I heard about you Scott, being a True Alpha. There were also rumors you had a few superhero sidekicks in your pack, I see that’s true as well. As soon as I heard this I just had to come and join your pack.”

That was beyond suspicious in Stiles’ mind, but he didn’t speak up. Instead Jaime, using the voice filtration from Khaji, spoke instead. The tone of his voice was disbelieving but still within the realm of not being a total jerk. Then again, that was just how Jaime was.

“There are two alpha’s to this pack.” Jaime was practically glaring, which made Bart shiver and look to his feet. “We’ll contact you.”

It seemed that was all Theo needed, as the beta ran off. As soon as Stiles couldn’t feel Theo’s energy, tainted and left a bad taste in Stiles’ mouth, he removed his mask. This was all the others needed and Bart removed his goggles as Jaime let his armour sink back. The only one who didn’t change much was Cassie, but she did return her hair to the ponytail she had been wearing earlier that day. 

They made their way inside slowly, Stiles glancing periodically at Bart. There was a conflicted look in his eyes. Just by this Stiles already knew he shouldn’t trust Theo, despite the terrible taste in his mouth. It was only once they got inside the building that Stiles finally spoke up.

“I don’t trust him,” Stiles mentioned.

“You don’t trust anyone,” Scott replied scoffing.

“It’s not that.” Stiles bristled a little at that, Bruce was so much worse than he was with trusting people. “His energy. It’s… it’s gross. I couldn’t see it without focusing but I could feel it. It was… disgusting. Slimy, it left a gross taste in my mouth. I feel like I need three hundred showers after this to get it off.”

“Or maybe, you just don’t like him.”   
“Scott, he bullied me in third grade…”

When Scott didn’t reply to Stiles, he glanced over. The True Alpha was shaking his head. This angered Stiles to a point but he didn’t let it affect him. Fine, Scott didn’t believe him. It seemed Bart did, if the way he sent an angry look in Scott’s direction was any indication. Both Jaime and Cassie seemed to trust him and they would follow his lead. They also knew that if one of the Bats had a feeling about somebody it would be best to follow their leads. It was something everyone knew and Stiles was definitely going to do research into Theo.

“I’m more worried about the guy that tried to kill me,” Scott finally spoke up.

Before Stiles could continue talking, Lydia appeared out of nowhere. The banshee immediately chastised them for being late before pulling them into the library. Kids were pulling books off of the shelves and sharpies were getting passed around. One got handed to Stiles and he took it.

When no one took the lead, Cassie stepped forward. She signed two initials, WG for Wonder Girl and then CD for her civilian name (even if it was a fake name). Then went Bart, hesitating over what to put. If anyone noticed they didn’t say anything. He signed it with an I first, for Impulse, then added BJ right beside it for Bart Johnson, his undercover name. After him went Jaime, putting BB for Blue Beetle then JG, Jaime Garcia. Stiles felt a little bad for them, putting fake names instead of their birth names. It was something that, whenever he was reminded of it, made Stiles feel bad. Cassie Sandsmark, Bart Allen, Jaime Reyes; their names changed for a mission that Stiles questioned often.

Kira went next, unknowing of the internal struggle, and easily signed her initials. Then Stiles came next, staring at the team’s initials and finding a place to put his own. DH, Derek Hale’s initials stared up at him. He hesitated over them for a second before placing his beneath them. SF, Shadow Fox, then right next to Derek’s he put SS-W, Stiles Stilinski-Wayne. Taking a step back Stiles watched Scott go up and put his own initials, hesitating for two seconds before putting AA, Allison Argent. Everyone inhaled sharply, staring at the new initials. The initials of their dead friend. No one knew what to say.

“She’s with us. Allison is still with us,” Lydia reminded them.

**_************BATWOLF*************_ **

They were down in the basement, in their civvies as school was going to start soon. The only one not there was Dick as he was at school getting ready for a class. While the other three were not actually talking with Jason, they were standing behind Stiles for support. Frustration was clear in Stiles’ movements, in his words, it gleamed in his eyes. 

“I don’t trust him!” Stiles exclaimed, “Shouldn’t that be enough? There’s something fishy about him.”

Jason just sighed as he holstered his gun, “Stiles, we’re booked. O is looking into the Joker and Harley plus a buttload of other cases that hold priority over this one. Red Robin isn’t even on world right now and Batman is completely focused on the Joker and Harley. Even if I did think Theo needed to be looked into, we don’t have the resources right now.”

“Then at least let me use our computer to do the research on him! I might not be Red Robin or Oracle level but I’m still better than you or Dick!”

“Stiles.” Jason knelt in front of Stiles and the younger shifted slightly. “I think you’re on edge right now.” That wasn’t a lie. It hadn’t even been a week since he had been rescued. His arm was still only wrapped, as it hadn’t healed yet. It wouldn’t heal for another few weeks, even longer if he kept using it. If he could siphon energy off of something it would shorten the time, so he had been taking little bits of energy from different things throughout the day. “You’re paranoid and finding danger where there isn’t any.  You can do research into him after school and after you finish your homework. Deal?”

“Deal.”

As soon as Jason left Stiles turned to Bart. Immediately the youngest shrunk away from his stare, glancing over at Jaime and Cassie for help. Neither of them came to it and Stiles gestured for Bart to sit down. The speedster did so hesitantly.

“What do you know about Theo?” Stiles demanded.

“Uh… spoilers?” Bart offered, before flinching when Stiles practically lashed out. Yelling angrily at nothing. “Dude! You’re acting moded!”

“What do you plan to do?” Cassie asked.

“I have a four step plan. One, get the story. Two, verify the facts. Three, find the piece that doesn’t fit. And four, catch him in the act,” Stiles replied, “I’ve already done some research. I just need this computer to get the harder things.”

“We’re going to be late,” Jaime reminded them.

At school Stiles growled lowly when Theo waved at them, which was weird as the only recognizable one would be Cassie. It seemed that Scott had completely ignored the fact they had another Alpha in the group, as he had allowed Theo in the pack. Stiles had informed Derek, who was not pleased, and now Stiles could already see the fissures in the pack bond. While a few remained strong, some others were breaking. Stiles had completely pulled his bond away from Theo as he hated the feeling of the slimy aura touching his. It was too reminiscent over the Nogitsune. The tainted parts of Stiles’ aura would never go away, but Theo’s entire aura, his energy, was slimy. 

“Why are you so suspicious of him?” Cassie asked, glancing over to Stiles, “Besides the whole energy thing.”

“I knew Theo in third grade, this isn’t Theo,” Stiles admitted.

“Should we talk to him?” Jaime sighed, grabbing the back of Bart’s backpack when the other went to continue walking.

Ignoring the interaction, Bart flailing and falling on his butt in surprise, Stiles looked at the three next to him. They trusted him, even Khaji Da(who apparently had told Jaime that Theo was bad news). There was no need for him to prove to them that Theo wasn’t to be trusted. One of the other members of the pack would have to come with him. Preferably Scott, as he was the one to trust Theo immediately.

“I’ll talk with him,” Stiles sighed, “He asked about me last night after all.”

“Alone?” Bart asked, having scrambled to his feet and was now climbing Jaime’s back like a tree. “Is that a good idea?”   
“Why? Something I should know?” Bart looked away, staying silent and clinging to Jaime’s back despite the elder’s best efforts to throw him off. “No, I won’t do it alone. I’ll bring Scott.”

The rest of the day went by smoothly, Stiles managing to get Scott to come with him. Then again, Scott’s whole reason to say yes was to prove that Theo wasn’t fishy to Stiles. If that was what it took for Scott to see reason, then Stiles was willing to go with it. Their free period they would confront Theo. 

Which brought them here. With Theo. The other had finished telling the story of how he got bitten. There was some icing on the cake as well. It connected to well with a story Stiles knew well. The story of how Aiden and Ethan gained their alpha status.

“Scott, listen to my pulse. See if I’m lying,” Theo urged.   
“You could know how to steady your pulse,” Stiles replied, arms crossed over his chest, “That way you could lie without detection.”

“Why would I lie?”

“Because you’re not who you say you are!”

“I had an asthma attack in third grade, it sent me to the ER. Before we left for the hospital Scott came up and comforted me. He reminded me that the visit would be easy. They’d make me feel better with oxygen and an intravenous feed of Prednisone.”

That was such a suck-up thing to say. God why hadn’t he let one of the members of his team come with him instead. Oh yeah, he reminded himself with an eyeroll, Theo was more likely to open up to Scott and himself. Not to mention it wasn’t his team that needed the knowledge of just how untrustworthy Theo was.

“I remember that,” Scott said, unnecessarily might Stiles add since he remembered it as well. 

The bell rang. That seemed to be what Theo was waiting for as he left the room.

“He’s being a suck-up!” Stiles exclaimed, the moment he could no longer feel the slime like energy on his body.

“We have to give people the benefit of the doubt sometimes.”

“I’m right! There’s something off about him.”   
“Lydia’s the psychic.”

“She’s a Banshee. Aura’s and energy, they don’t lie Scott!”

It was later when Stiles joined the others in the library. In his hand were two different documents, one the signature from the speeding ticket and the other the signature for the administrations. The differences between the two was something that he had been trained to catch, being a bat and all. With Dick there as well, he would back him up. It was supposedly a tutoring session between Dick and Scott, but it didn’t matter. He was interrupting it.

“I have proof,” Stiles announced, elaborating at the confused look on almost everyone’s faces, “Theo isn’t who he says he is.”   
“Stiles…” Scott started.

“Look at this.”

Both pieces of paper were slapped on the table. Everyone crowded close to look at it, Dick closing the teacher textbook in front of him. The only one not there was Liam. After letting the others study it for a few seconds, and getting a few weird looks as they did so (except Bart who vibrated until Jaime made him stop), before he started explaining. Hopefully Dick would agree with him on this and Khaji would know enough about this kinda thing to help. That way it would be more than his, apparently unreliable, word.

“The garlands don’t match.” As he spoke he showed the differences with his finger. “The undulations of the sinuous stroke are totally off.” His finger traced the signature before stopping. “Here is a perfect example of the Criminal Tremor.”   
“English please,” Bart begged.

“The garlands are the cup like structure that connect letters in cursive handwriting,” Dick explained, “A sinuous stroke indicates the writer is hiding something or attempting to deceive. Lastly the Criminal Tremor usually shows up because someone grips the pen too tightly in concentration while writing.”

“So? This doesn’t mean anything. I know my signature changes every time I write it,” Kira said.

“How do we know it’s not Theo forging his Dad’s signature? Maybe his parents are dead and Theo killed them,” Stiles said, “Or maybe his parents are psychotic killers. We shouldn’t trust him if his parents are psychotic killers.”

Dick coughed, “Uh. You do remember that Batgirl is the daughter of Cluemaster, Black Bat is the daughter of Lady Shiva, Robin is the son of Talia al Ghul and the grandson of the Demon. Raven is the daughter of a literal demon…”

“I know, I know okay!” Stiles exclaimed, hand running through his hair nervously, “You believe me right Dick?”

“I believe that there’s something off about Theo, but you’re gonna need more proof.”

“Fine! Fine! If you guys aren’t going to listen to me I’ll find someone who will!” 

Stiles stormed away, growling lowly beneath his breath. It wasn’t exactly surprising to him that both Bart and Jaime followed, Cassie staying behind. There wasn’t a reason for Cassie to stay behind but Stiles was certain it was because she was trying to keep the peace. For some reason Stiles felt it wasn’t going to hurt. Everyone’s energy was starting to get antsy, their bonds loosening. It had started ever since Theo came. Since Stiles made his first theory about Theo. 

“So, where are we going ese?” Jaime asked.

“To get Liam and find proof,” Stiles replied.

“Why are we getting Liam?” Bart was clinging to Jaime’s arm, seeming to use the other to keep him from running excitedly. “Is he coming with us?”

“Yep. Liam doesn’t like Theo much either.”

It wasn’t difficult to convince Liam to come along. At some point during the stakeout Bart left them, getting to antsy to stay. Jaime, however, had hung around with the other two. Yet everyone was feeling the strain of watching Theo play video games for three hours. Then Theo left the house. One quick call later, Bart joined them again.

“What happened?” Bart asked, chewing on a bag of potato chips he snagged from the house.

“We watched Theo play video games for three hours until he came here,” Liam summed it all up. Pretty nicely if Stiles said so himself. “I was supposed to meet Mason at the school to work out. I can’t tell him what I’m doing right now.”

“You still haven’t told him?” Jaime asked, “Everyone’s given you permission too.”

“He already saw Cass blow up a berserker,” Stiles reminded him, remembering Lydia tell them about Cass (who had been left behind to find Lydia), also known as Black Bat, saving their lives while the rest went to free Scott and Kira.

“Prettymuchalreadyintheknow,” Bart added quickly, Jaime translating the smushed up words.

“It’s not that easy!” Liam looked away from the others.

“It’s easier when they’re in the know.” Stiles spoke from experience.

Suddenly Liam was gone from Stiles side. The three froze before backtracking towards where Liam disappeared from. Something glinted in Liam’s hand, Stiles’ eyes immediately drawn to it. This place had a sense of wrongness to it, one that caused the same slimy feeling that Theo’s energy did. 

Liam began to climb out, leaving the necklace on the ground. Once he was within reach the three helped pull him out. Then they went to find Theo. It didn’t take long either, the four of them crouching behind a mound of dirt covered in fallen leaves and branches. Theo was on a bridge, casting out a lilly into the water. 

“Can you guys sense anything?” Stiles didn’t trust his abilities at the moment. Knowing that the feeling of the energy on his skin would skew what the aura would tell him. 

“He’s grieving,” Liam whispered.

Jaime opened his mouth to speak but Stiles immediately knew what was happening. Or, he thought he knew. With a quiet cuss, Stiles tugged Liam and Bart away. Without question Jaime followed silently. They rushed through the forest.   
Theo still caught up.

“What’re you four doing here?” Theo asked.

“Could ask you the same question,” Bart replied, rolling forward on the balls of his feet to add some innocence to the reply.

“My sister died here…”

“Oh.” Liam seemed to finally understand why Stiles dragged them out.

Still, Jaime was quiet.

“I know something’s wrong with you,” Stiles said, flourishing out the signatures. He was showing his hand to early, he knew that, but this might get him to slip up. “These were signed by two different people.”

“I could give you a DNA sample,” Theo offered.

This slightly angered Stiles. There was no DNA from fourth grade that he could possibly get to prove it true. Theo could give him fake samples and he’d have to believe him, unless he took the samples himself. Yet there were multiple different ways someone could fake a DNA test (like cloning *cough*RoyHarper*cough*). It wasn’t foolproof and Theo knew that. 

“I don’t have anything from fourth grade to prove it,” Stiles murmured. His teeth ground together angrily, Bruce would be so disappointed in him right now.

“Look, Stiles, I came back to Beacon Hills not only for Scott but for you. I want someone in my pack that’s loyal and would do anything for them. I want you. I’m meant to be part of this pack.” The charm was laid on thick. So thick it was suffocating.

The others left quickly, practically speed walking. Someone was waiting for them back at the jeep. Immediately Liam lowered his head in submission. Feet dragging across the ground. Both Jaime and Bart looked at each other than Stiles. A quick goodbye and Bart ran off, Jaime taking off into the air. This left Scott, Liam, and Stiles alone.

“Theo was in the woods to pay respects to his sister,” Scott immediately deduced, getting in the passenger's seat as Liam got in the back. 

There was no response from Stiles. The engine spluttered angrily, the car not starting. A quick gesture from Stiles and Liam got in the driver's seat. Both Stiles and Scott got out. This wasn’t going to be a fun talk, Stiles could tell.

Ignoring his friend, Stiles lifted the hood. Nothing seemed wrong. Frustration filled his body. There was plenty of energy and fuel, it had to be something mechanical. Yet there was nothing. Nothing that he could see. Or feel for that matter. Everything seemed okay.

“Why don’t you trust him?” Scott interrogated.

This was not the time to argue. “Why should I?”

“Because I do.”

“Newsflash, I don’t trust people.” His body was tense. “Liam turn it over.”   
The jeep spluttered. Frustrated tears formed but Stiles refused to let them fall. He was Shadow Fox dammit, he had been Robin! 

“Do you trust me?”

“What kinda question is that! Just cause I trust people doesn’t mean I trust their judgement!” Stiles fiddled with a few things. “Try again!”

It seemed close, but again the jeep died. A soft curse fell from his lips. Why? Why?! What was he doing wrong?! In general. Not just about the car. Stiles gnawed softly on his lip. 

“You haven’t trusted many people in the past. Derek, Peter, Liam,” Scott replied.

“I was right about Peter and you were the one that didn’t trust Liam,” Stiles replied, before adding. “I bet you think Peter still can be saved.”

“That may be true.”

It seemed the discussion came to an end and Stiles focused more on the car. No matter what he did nothing seemed to work. A low growl escaped his lips. Tension still traced his body. Every nerve on end. Every muscle taut. Fingers clenched. Something could set him off easily.

“Why don’t you trust more?” This was enough.

“BECAUSE YOU TRUST TOO MUCH!!” In his anger, Stiles slammed his fist hard into the engine.

Skin split, blood bubbling up. Bruises formed and knuckles cracked. A hiss of pain escaped his lips. The frustrated tears fell. So many people. So many. They had died, they had fallen, due to their trust. Their spirit broken as those they trusted turned on them. One example was Dick, but Stiles hated focusing on that. There was a reason Tarantula was gone now. Not that Dick knew the truth. 

The tears continued to fall.

“Stiles.” Scott’s voice was gentle. On the verge of placating. Normally this would wind Stiles up more but it only caused him to sag. “Give me your hand.”

There was no arguing with Scott when he was like this. With a soft sniff, which was not commented on, Stiles gave Scott his hand. Almost immediately the pain was gone. The pain and injury was drawn out with Scott’s ability. At the same time the jeep started.

Later on Stiles was in his room, the clear Lucite board in front of him. For a few minutes he stared at it. Then he produced a white erasable marker and wrote Theo’s name on the board. Jason leaned against the door to his room, before walking in. One hand was placed on Stiles’ shoulder as he looked at the board.

“You know, we always wait until someone does something wrong before we say they’re guilty. Accusations require proof. Proof trumps instinct,” Jason commented.

“I know what’s different about you,” Stiles said, “You’re no longer touching up your hair. The roots are showing. No one has noticed yet, not even Dick.”   
“Anything else?”

“You’re not wearing long sleeves anymore.”

“Alright. If you’re so certain he’s guilty, he’ll slip up. They always do.”

**_**********BATWOLF***********_ **

“What’s got you so freaked out? It’s just Dick,” Stiles demanded, spinning in Jason’s chair.

The other didn’t even look up, ruffling the white streak in his hair. Both Stiles and Scott shared an amused look. There weren’t many things that got Jason all flustered. Dick, however, was one. It was always amusing watching Jason get like this. Even more amusing when Dick got this way. 

“That’s exactly why!” Jason exclaimed, “I should’ve cut my hair.”

“At your age, you should be glad you have hair,” Stiles responded.

“I’m not even thirty!”

“I think your hair looks fine. You look great Sheriff Todd,” Scott replied.

“Thanks Scott, you’re the brother I should have had,” Jason sent Stiles a glare.

In response, Stiles covered his chest with his hands. A fake pout on his lips. However his older brother ignored it. Instead Jason began to tug anxiously at his tie, which Stiles had to tie. Somehow Jason never learned. An angry exclamation crossed Stiles’ lips. 

“This date was a bad idea. What if something happens?!” Jason exclaimed.

“Firstly, you and Dick haven’t gone out since this started. Secondly, there are four heroes and a pack of supernatural creatures to pick up the slack. Thirdly, if Gotham doesn’t implode when Batman isn’t there Beacon Hills isn’t going to when you and Dick aren’t there,” Stiles ticked off, before reaching over and tightening the tie again.

“TODD!!!!” 

There was a subtle tension that appeared on Jason, muscles taut. Obviously he knew who was calling his name and after the second call Stiles knew as well. Donovan, the bastard. One of Jason’s first bad experiences as Sheriff. Vowed revenge on him, something about Anger Expression Inventory? Stiles wasn’t a hundred percent certain. The details were hidden from him. 

The three of them exited the sheriff’s office. Outside was Donovan, glaring at Jason and Stiles next to him. The glare shifted towards Scott as well. Then a snarl grew on the others face and Stiles looked over at Jason in worry. He wished he knew more about Donovan, but Jason had replied it was a police thing. Maybe he should’ve pushed. But at the time he hadn’t thought it was important.

“I’ll kill you!!” Donovan shouted.

“I’m not shocked.” Jason was used to death threats and had already died before. Stiles’ wasn’t shocked that Jason wasn’t shocked. “Your behavior was well documented in your Anger Expression Inventory.”

This only angered Donovan more. Why did Jason always do this? Dick wasn’t here to control him. Stiles was too tired, mentally and physically, to control Jason. It came down to Jason here. The elder wasn’t doing anything to keep the other cool. Then again, that might just be all Donovan.

“I know where you live!! Your family won’t help!! I’ll kill them too! Then kill you, with a knife. I’m gonna stab you in the heart!!” Donovan screamed.

Stiles barely withheld a snort. Stabbing a bunch of superheroes with a knife? In their home? In their sleep? That was a good idea. One, Bart would heal so fast that Donovan wouldn’t know what to do. Khaji never sleeps and would wake Jaime up the second he felt there was a threat. Cassie… she’s not invulnerable but she would wake up the second Donovan entered her room and attack. Dick and Jason would wake up, so would Stiles. That was even if Donovan got past Batman approved security.

“Your performance was great. A+ for effort. But can you do it again like Christopher Walken? No? You’ll have plenty of time to work on it in your tiny little cell forever.” Stiles knew he shouldn’t antagonize him, but he couldn’t help it.

It wasn’t surprising that Donovan rushed to attack him. Stiles stood still, knowing that the deputies would keep him back. They did their job. Angrily Donovan’s lawyer shouted at him. A little grin crossed Stiles’ face. Despite the amused exasperation that Jason was obviously hiding.

“Get him out of here!” Jason ordered at the deputies. They did so.

“Anger Expression Inventory is a test designed for cops,” Stiles explained to a confused Scott. “Pretty much exactly how it sounds.”

After a quick goodbye to Jason, the two went outside and got into the jeep. Twisting the key in the ignition Stiles sighed when the car only spluttered. Once again he tried the key. It continued not to work. Repeatedly, getting faster each time, Stiles tried to turn over the car. Slowly his hand began to shake. Aware of Scott watching him, Stiles refused to look.

“It’s anxiety. You guys know I’m aware of you using the chemo signals to monitor my emotional state, right?” Stiles asked, hitting the steering wheel when it wouldn’t start.

“Yes?” That sounded like a question. Scott also winced so it was probably a lie. Stiles knew without the tell though.

“Sure.”

“I received a message from Braeden,” Stiles confessed, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. “It’s… you ever heard of Desert Wolf? She killed someone. Violently. Braeden sent me a picture. Look.” Scott chanced a glance and turned pale. 

“Why is Braeden looking for her?”

“I found a connection with Desert Wolf and a few… things here. I asked her to look into it. Kinda feel bad though, like I’m forcing her to find her.”

“Then maybe you should stop?”   
“It’s not up to me.”   
Stiles tried to start the Jeep again, this time it turned over. As they drove Cassie’s name flashed on the phone screen, with a text. Scott gave him an amused look, at what Cassie’s name was under. 

**From Cassie Wonder:**

**Found a dead body, already called the police. Come quickly.**

“Wasn’t Cassie learning to drive with the other girls… and Bart?” Scott looked over at him. 

“Bart joined cause he was bored. I have no clue what Jaime’s doing,” Stiles replied, “Tell her we’ll be there soon.”

The two drove up, Stiles leaving the Jeep to idle as they got out. Already Jaime was there, with Bart and the girls. They were talking quietly to each other, having already given their statements to the cops. Jason was waiting for them, handing over a walkie talkie to Scott. Silently Stiles walked over to the others, knowing what Jason wanted Scott to do. This was the fastest way.

“You guys come across it or?” Stiles asked.

“We already gave our statements,” Kira replied.

“So? Somethings you can’t tell the cops.”

“They say it was Donovan,” Lydia commented.

“I don’t think it’s Donovan.”   
“Then who do you think it was?” Cassie had a hand on Bart’s shoulder, only looking up when she spoke.

Surprisingly, Bart was quiet. Occasionally his eyes darted back over to the destroyed van, before looking at one of the others. He knew something, but from past experience he knew Bart wouldn’t tell them. Unless, that is, he believed that it wouldn’t affect the future too much. This… Stiles wasn’t sure.

“Bart?” Stiles asked.

“It’s not Donovan,” Bart agreed.

“Then who is it?” Lydia took a defensive position, shifting her weight and crossing her arms.

“I can’t…” Bart bit down on his lip, hard enough that Jaime reached over and rubbed his thumb over Bart’s lip until he released it. “It was Tracy.”

“Tracy?” Stiles wasn’t sure how much he believed it.

That was until Scott came back and confirmed it.

They all congregated at the Todd-Grayson household, aka the old Stilinski house. All of them sprawled across various pieces of furniture. Mason had joined them, though Stiles had made it clear earlier that none of the superheroes were allowed to tell him their identities. All of them agreed easily, even though Cassie was probably the most recognizable.

“Tracy had been having night terrors,” Lydia explained, ignoring Bart’s little noise, “She was seeing my mom about them.”

“She is now the Night Terror. No one can find her, not even the best.” Stiles ran a hand through his hair.

“We’re all tired and miserable,” Scott added.

Everyone, it seemed, except for Mason. He had come in oozing sunshine and rainbows. This put Stiles off some, they already had enough people that oozed sunshine and rainbows, but he had dealt with it. Another member of the pack wasn’t a bad thing. Even if it added to the people that Stiles had to keep track of.

Derek returned to the room, a plate of cookies in hand. They were obviously baked by Jason, as no one except for him and Stiles could bake. As Stiles didn’t remember baking the cookies, that meant Jason had to have. Unless Derek bought them at the store and had decided to put them on a plate. The elder alpha sat down next to Stiles, tugging him close. Despite not liking PDA, Derek gave him a gentle kiss on the temple before handing him a cookie.

“You’re a kitsune!” Mason exclaimed, everyone looking at him tiredly. Liam stole a cookie as Mason continued. “I don’t even know what that is!”

“I’m still learning about it myself,” Kira admitted.

“You know Liam.” Derek chuckled with a little grin, eyes going over to their youngest member. “When we told you to tell Mason we didn’t mean bringing him into the Inner Circle.”   
“Inner Circle?!” Mason exclaimed.

At the same time Liam scoffed. “This isn’t even the innermost circle, don’t pretend.”

“Can I join?!”

“No!” Everyone, except Bart and Jason (Jason wasn’t even here), chorused.

“You’re not part of the inner circle,” Liam and Stiles added.

For a second no one spoke, Dick exiting the room for a second before returning with Jason. Both had coffee, so that was where Jason went (they had run out), and sat together on one of the (many) pieces of furniture. This only added to the silence, until Jason raised an eyebrow at the others.

“We should be able to find Tracy, she’s a lone wolf,” Scott mentioned.

“Serial killing wolf,” Cassie added.

“Serial killing Kanima,” Jaime corrected, explaining when everyone looked at him, “Khaji found the same veneno, venom, coated on one of the holes in the transport van, he scanned it.”

“Regardless, she only killed one person,” Scott argued.

“She’s too dangerous, we should kill her the second we capture her.” Jason cast his vote.

“We’re not killing her,” Dick immediately argued.

“We should concentrate on catching her anyways,” Derek agreed.

The next day, Stiles ended up in the animal hospital with Tracy anyways. Apparently she had shown up at school. Stiles wasn’t one hundred percent sure how they got her there, just that he had to be there. The rest of the teen heroes, Scott, and Derek were there, Bart more twitchy than normal. 

Deaton was checking her over, Bart occasionally speeding over than back. Somehow this didn’t seem to affect Deaton’s work. Silently he checked her pupils, her temperature, and her pulse rate. As he did this Jaime muttered under his breath, Bart occasionally coming over and listening to what Jaime was saying. The younger would add to it before rushing back to Deaton’s side. With a little bit of surprise, Stiles noted that everything loose had paperweights on it. Perhaps Bart came running in here enough that Deaton put weights on it. Stiles wasn’t sure.

“Pupils are normal, heart rate is 250. There’s also allogeneic skin graft on her right shoulder, well evidence of it. The skin is different coloring,” Deaton informed them.

“It’s an allogeneic skin graft,” Bart assured.

“How would you know?” Scott asked.

“Spoilers. The substance dripping from her lips-” Bart suddenly had on gloves and a bit of silvery substance on his finger. “-it is mercury.”

“So, you can tell us what it is but not why you know it cariño?” Jaime stepped closer to Bart.

The younger disappeared for a split second. When he reappeared, the gloves were no longer on his hands. He nodded quickly, tucking himself under Jaime’s arm. Everyone sighed. Deaton didn’t bat an eyelash. Instead continuing his evaluation.

“Khaji suggests that we kill her with a shot,” Jaime announced.

“My code of ethics frown on such measures,” Deaton replied.

“...I’m not repeating that, ese.”

“I agree that she’s a danger, that she could kill us, but surely there’s something else we can do. Like a shot to keep her under?” Stiles asked.

As a reply, Deaton cast a circle of mountain ash. A bit belatedly, Stiles realized he hadn’t tried to step through a mountain ash circle since whatever was awoken inside him. Hesitantly he stepped towards it, placing a foot over. Whatever he was, a spark?, it didn’t seem to affect his ability to cross the line. No one said anything to this test, Cassie reaching out and placing her hand on his shoulder. Scott tested it himself. His hand was blocked by the mountain ash. Silently Stiles leaned against Derek. The alpha squeezing his arm gently.

Deaton tried to get a scalpel through her skin, but it broke. Something was moving under the skin. A text came in for Scott, his mouth opening in warning. But it was too late. Jaime’s armour covered his entire body in the time that the tail appeared out of the skin and lashed out. Deaton was knocked down, Stiles following seconds later. The tail sliced into Bart’s skin, Cassie also getting cut. Both fell. Derek and Scott moved to apprehend her, but both got cut down. The Alpha’s fell. 

“How’d she get past the mountain ash?!” Jaime exclaimed, “She’s… ¡¿Qué?!”   
“What? What is it?” Stiles demanded.

“The laws of the supernatural, they don’t apply to them. This is so moded,” Bart complained.

“Them?” Derek growled.

“Spoilers…?”

“I really wish you would stop saying that,” Cassie groaned.

“Where’d she go?” Scott asked.

“I don’t know, she moved too fast. Khaji could probably track her but…” Jaime trailed off, Stiles unable to tell where he was. However his voice was coming from behind.

“It’ll wear off Bart in a few minutes,” Stiles commented, trying to move his eyes enough to find the others, “All Scott and Derek need to do is start up the healing process… if possible.”

“No supernatural creature should be able to cross the mountain ash barrier.” It seemed Deaton was stuck on that.

“Scott managed it.”

“I nearly died.”

Stiles blinked in surprise when a pair of black tennis shoes appeared in his line of sight. Trailing his eyes upward, Stiles saw Jaime above him. The eldest of their makeshift family knelt down in front of Stiles, muttering in Spanish. Most of the words were unsatisfactory. A few were aimed at Khaji. The rest observations. 

“Bart, you okay? Bueno?” Jaime demanded.

“I’m crash, but my speed is moded.” There were a few stumbling footsteps behind him. 

Jaime went out of view, which was not fair. Stiles tried to reach out with his ability. It was too sluggish. He couldn’t even see their auras. This caused him to panic for a few seconds. There was a low growl behind him, Derek probably? 

“Jaime, Bart, go after Tracy,” Deaton ordered. 

“But-!” Bart tried to argue.

“Go! Call Dick if you need help. We’ll try to follow,” Cassie replied.

The growl grew. There was movement behind him and suddenly Derek was in his line of sight. The alpha rested a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it, before straightening up. A quick movement later and the trio went off. Behind him Scott growled, obviously in some pain. At least they had a way to jumpstart the healing. Stiles needed some sort of energy to jumpstart his healing. The very minor healing ability he had.

The door opened and Stiles wished he could have tensed. Yet he couldn’t. It was awful. Right now they were all so vulnerable. He  _ hated  _ it. This feeling grew when the person stepped into his line of sight. Theo. So many questions developed. How did Theo know where they are? Why’d he appear now? 

“How’d you find us?” Scott sounded more impressed than angry or surprised.

“You work here,” Theo replied, looking around before stepping closer. Stiles wished he could move. “I heard about Tracy. I was looking for you, Scott, for help. It doesn’t mean I have to be part of the pack, like you’ve accepted me or anything like that.” Theo’s eyes flickered down to Stiles, who didn’t hold back a glare. “I just want to help.” Theo’s eyes stayed on Stiles. God, Stiles wished he could punch him. 

**_**********BATWOLF************_ **

The group sprinted into the Sheriff’s office. As much as Stiles hated Theo, they had needed his help. Now it would just seem rude, not that it would stop Batman, to refuse his help. But Stiles wasn’t Batman. Stiles wasn’t rude. He would concede to Theo’s help. Even if he didn’t want it.

It was a disaster in the Sheriff’s office. Blood everywhere. Papers strewn across the room, desks overturned. There was even part of Tracy’s kanima tail on the ground. Scott pushed past him to help Jason, who probably didn’t need the help. There was Bart, on the ground, Jaime sitting beside him and gently carding a hand through the youngers auburn hair. What had happened here? Besides the obvious. 

As he examined the room he spotted Kira putting pressure on a wound on Lydia’s side. Immediately he rushed to help, but was pushed aside by Theo. It was rough and Stiles took a millisecond to recover. Theo took off his belt and created a tourniquet with it. Narrowing his eyes at Theo, Stiles wondered what his play was. Then he left the group there, knowing that Kira would take care of Lydia. Besides, he needed to check on Bart and Jaime.

“What happened?” Stiles demanded as he knelt in front of Bart and Jaime.

Bart’s eyes were closed, breathing normal (as far as Stiles could tell). There was nothing immediately wrong that he could spot. By now Bart should have his speed back, unless something else was wrong. Jaime never stopped the movement through Bart’s hair, taking a few seconds to respond.

“I don’t know. It all happened so fast. I’m not even sure Tracy hit him. He just… collapsed,” Jaime replied, “There was so much happening. I was still reeling from Lydia… Carajo!” Jaime gripped Bart’s hair tightly for a second, the cuss startling Stiles slightly. While it wasn’t unusual for Jaime to cuss, especially in spanish with Bart around, it was unusual for him to react so strongly.

“Hey, calm down,” Stiles told him, “He’s strong, he’ll be fine. Did you see any noticeable wounds?”

“No, and if he had any they’ve probably healed.”

“Alright, we’ll check him as soon as we get home. Jay! We need some help over here.”

“Stiles! Come on!” Scott called.

Should he leave Bart and Jaime? Even if Jason was with them, he would never forgive himself if anything happened. Besides, Lydia was practically bleeding out in the next room. His brother knelt beside him and gestured for him to go with Scott. A second longer he hesitated, before heading downstairs quickly. Deaton followed.

“Cassie? Der? What happened?” Stiles asked, catching sight of the two standing and the dead body at their feet.

“These people with masks appeared.” Cassie didn’t turn to look at them, instead continuing to stare at the body at her feet. “They injected her with something and she collapsed to the ground. She’s dead.”

The three moved closer, Stiles standing between Cassie and Derek. Something was clearly upsetting Derek. Stiles’ biggest clue was when he didn’t wrap his arm around Stiles. Though it was kinda disturbing to see a still transformed Tracy on the ground. Cassie would never lie about someone dying, Derek would never let anyone get away with it. Therefore people with masks was their best bet. Even if that wasn’t very descriptive.

Stiles wasn’t exactly sure when they got to the hospital. With Jason’s help they had hidden Tracy’s body away. There was a ride there, Lydia getting put in an ambulance. Bart and Jaime were picked up by Dick, so that Bart could get checked out. Stiles hoped they would find out what was wrong. Here’s to hoping it was just from using Superspeed when his body couldn’t keep up with the energy loss. That was an easy fix.

Back to the hospital. The group sat on the waiting room chairs. Stiles’ leg bounced up and down nervously. Even Derek putting his hand on it didn’t help. Though it was a worthwhile effort. Everyone stood as one when Melissa came out and walked over.

“The tourniquet probably saved her life, thank you Theo,” Melissa looked over at the newest addition, Stiles even giving him a thankful nod. No matter what his plan is, Stiles was grateful for the help. “She’s heading into surgery. It’ll be a bit. Anything I should know?”   
“Tracy’s tail, it’s what caused the injury,” Kira spoke up.

It seemed that was all that needed to be said. Melissa disappeared behind the doors again, leaving the group there. Everyone slowly went their separate ways, Cassie and Derek hanging back. Jason had to return back to the Sheriff’s office for clean up and evidence gathering. Silently Stiles slipped his hand into Derek’s, squeezing gently. The two headed outside, Cassie staying back to give them some room.

“What do you think of Theo?” Derek asked, as soon as they were out of earshot.

“You know what I think of him,” Stiles replied softly.

“I just know you hate him, not why.”

“The first hint is his energy, it… it feels like slime on my skin. It clings there and leaves a bad taste in my mouth. Then everything he does, is doing… it’s suspicious. I want to stay as far away from him as possible.”

“I’m sensing a but.”   
“But if I do that… he could get away with things that he wouldn’t if I was staying close.”

“Friends close, enemies closer?”

“Exactly.”

For a second they didn’t say anything else, Derek still holding his hand. It was a comfortable silence. Yet it couldn’t last forever. Stiles squeezed Derek’s hand gently before turning to look at him. The older werewolf looked down and grinned gently, pressing a kiss on Stiles’ forehead. 

“You can do better than that,” Stiles replied, tugging Derek down.

They kissed gently, Derek’s stubble scratching along Stiles’ jaw. A second later they broke apart due to Cassie clearing her throat. The amazon was smirking at them, Stiles just knew it. Above him Derek chuckled as Stiles blushed. 

“Are we going home anytime soon?” Cassie demanded.

“You can fly you know?” Stiles replied, turning around but sighed in resignation anyways. “See you later Derek.”   
“Good luck.”

Somehow they always ended up in the library. This was something Stiles mused about often. It was the next day, they were back at school. Earlier he had tried to visit Lydia in the ICU but he wasn’t allowed too. Nothing worked either, even bribing. Honestly Stiles was impressed by the nurses there. Even the ones in Gotham would succumb to a bribe, the ones in Metropolis did as well. Maybe he would stay in Beacon Hills once this mission was over. This very, very, long mission. 

“I couldn’t visit Lydia. Only family is allowed inside,” Stiles commented, collapsing on the bench beside Bart.

It turned out Stiles was right. Due to the kanima venom, Bart’s metabolism wasn’t working fast enough for him to keep up. Using his superspeed to avoid Tracy had caused him to collapse on the ground. Thankfully Dick had managed to get his energy back up and Bart was able to go to school. Jaime had been clinging to his side the entire day, which Bart wasn’t complaining about. 

There was a big version of the bestiary, translated, was on the desk. Kira turned the page. A picture of a berserker fighting a viking took up most of the page. Already Stiles had memorized more than half of the book. Briefly he wondered why Bart wasn’t just skimming through the entire book right now, but brushed it aside. Most likely Bart was preserving his strength. That or Jaime was being overprotective.

“We’re looking for a Chimera. It’s a creature made up of incongruous parts,” Scott commented.

“That’s a big word Scotty boy,” Stiles replied with a grin.

The page turned again. This time it was a newer entry. About Wendigo’s. Stiles studied the bestiary long after the others left. Soon it was just him and Cassie. The two debated over whether the Chimera is the one from Greek Mythology or a different Chimera. Somehow Stiles began to drift off during this talk. 

When he woke up, Cassie was gone. It was dark. Why hadn’t anyone woken him up? To many questions, he’d have to ask Cassie later. Tucking the Bestiary under his arm, he headed outside. As usual, the Jeep didn’t start. He should get it checked out and fixed, but there was no time anymore. Homework, Shadow Fox, and the pack stuff take up all his time. That’s not including the dates with Derek and training either. This was probably the first time he slept well in… a while. 

Stiles got out of the Jeep, the tool kit in his hand. Silently he checked over the engine of the Jeep, noticing it smoking. His brow furrowed. A hose had a leak in it probably. With a soft sigh he pulled out some duct tape, peeling it open before wrapping it over the hose. He continued to wrap it before he felt someone coming up behind. Silently he reached over for a wrench, his fingers had just brushed against it when something clamped down on his shoulder. A hand, with teeth. Stiles couldn’t help it. He cried out.

**_**********BATWOLF************_ **

This was something he had never fought against before. It had teeth, on his hand. Millions of little tiny sharp teeth dug into the skin of his shoulder. Yanking and pulling. Stiles flailed for a few minutes before hitting back hard with his elbow. Striking the gut. A grunt came from the person behind him and the hold loosened. Stiles yanked his shoulder out of the person’s grip, crying out again as it tore some skin off his shoulder. Blood sputtered from the wound. This didn’t stop him.

Twirling around Stiles grabbed the wrench, his only other weapon besides the whip around his waist. Donovan was already up and Stiles struck him across the head with the wrench. With his injuries and the jeep not working, Stiles had to flee. The only place he could go was the school library. That was where he headed. Using his keycard he entered the library, disappearing into the stacks.

Due to his training, Stiles managed to calm his breathing. It wouldn’t help if he was found. Stiles crouched behind a row of stacks. If only he had his phone on him, but it had fallen out of his pocket. At the moment it buzzed from it’s position on the floor. Donovan lowered his hand and picked it up.

“Cassie Wonder, should I text her back for you?” Donovan asked, but he tossed the phone away.

Stiles kept quiet, holding a hand against his wound. It was still bleeding sluggishly. Grip tightening around the wound, Stiles desperately hoped Donovan didn’t have a heightened sense of smell. Otherwise he was screwed. Donovan began to move.

“I’m going to tell you a story Stiles, you wanna hear it? Back when good old Deputy Stilinski was still alive, you know your dad? Do you even remember him Stiles?” Stiles bit down on his lip. “Did you know that my dad got paralyzed in a shootout? He got hit. The bullet shattered his T-9 vertebra. Your dad was calling for backup. He was a coward. Left my dad to get paralyzed while he survived. I blame your dad, too bad he’s dead now. Wish I could’ve been the one to kill him.” Stiles had to remind himself that he was losing blood too fast to fight well enough. He wouldn’t be able to win this fight. 

Yet Stiles kept an eye on Donovan, trying to track where he would go. The chimera, there was nothing else he could be, made his way up the stairs. Tension still riddled Stiles’ muscles and body. Seconds later a hand reached through the bookshelf and grabbed Stiles by the throat. There was barely time to brace himself, as Stiles got pulled through the bookshelf.

They struggled, Stiles hitting him with the wrench but Donovan grabbed it and threw it. Stiles twisted and managed to get loose. There was scaffolding in front of him and Stiles began to climb. It was the only thing he could do. Hands grabbed his ankle and Stiles cried out in shock, shoulder crying out as he held on.

“I’m going to eat your legs.” Donovan’s eyes flashed white. A sign of a Wendigo.

Stiles looked for something, anything to help him. His eyes traced the scaffolding. There! A pin! Hopefully something would happen. He flailed around, hooked a finger around it, and pulled. The hands around his ankles disappeared. Stiles tucked himself close to the scaffolding, hearing whatever he made happen clatter on the ground. 

The sounds stopped.

For a few minutes, Stiles just hung onto the scaffolding. His breathing was hard. Then he realized that there was nothing. No angry Donovan. No one going after him. Nothing. 

With bated breath, Stiles turned around. His heart stuttered. Donovan. He was. He was dead. There was a beam, a part of scaffolding, sticking right through his chest. Blood was pouring from the wound, dripping onto the ground and creating a pool of blood. What was worse? Maybe that Donovan was still alive.

“No, no, no…” Stiles had just wanted to get away. Not kill him. 

Dropping to the ground, Stiles quickly ran to Donovan’s side. His hands grabbed the edge of the scaffolding beam. Blood slicked up his hands, making it difficult to grip. He tried to pull the scaffolding beam out of Donovan. But he froze. Why did he freeze?

Silver liquid came out of Donovan’s wound, seconds after he died. Stiles was frozen. Then his brain started working again. 911. He needed to call 911. Anonymously. No one could know. No one. Not even his family, not the pack. Not Derek. 

Stiles wanted to throw up, but he couldn’t. He knew of a few cases that had been solved by vomit near the scene. With difficulty Stiles swallowed back the bile. Then he stumbled over to a phone inside the school and dialed 911. Numbly he noticed that there was blood on his hands, and by default the phone. He’d have to, he’d have to wipe them.

_ ~911, what’s your emergency?~  _ Stiles breathed heavily, still staring at the dead body of Donovan. There was no way he could speak anyways.  _ ~What’s your emergency? Are you there? What’s your emergency?~  _ There was silence for a few moments.  _ ~There will be a deputy there momentarily, stay put~ _

That was all Stiles needed to hear. He hung up the phone. Donovan still had his phone and, as much as Stiles hated it, the phone was evidence. Evidence he needed to remove from the scene. Stiles groped around before grabbing it out of Donovan’s pocket. As he did so the phone started to buzz in his hand. Startled Stiles nearly dropped his phone. Without even looking at who was calling, Stiles hung up on them. 

Once more, Stiles looked at Donovan’s body. His throat closed up. Silently he looked away. Bile rose into his mouth but Stiles swallowed it back down. He couldn’t… He just couldn’t. All he wanted to do was leave but he had a few minutes to clean up anything that might link it to him. 

As he left, Stiles propped the door open with a book. That way whoever they sent could get in easily. Then he stumbled back to the jeep, phone held limply in his hands.

Shock, he was in shock. He had just… he had just broken the number one rule. No killing. He might not be the first to break it, certainly not the last, he had promised himself. He had promised.

The Jeep started, first try. His hands were slick with Donovan’s blood. It coated the steering wheel, his phone. Silently he turned off the headlights, backing up into a dark corner. There would be no time for him to get out before the deputy appeared. He was right.

The deputy entered the library, Stiles waiting in bated silence. Moments later the deputy exited. Hands shaking Stiles turned on the radio besides him, upping the volume. There was a few moments of static before something came over.

_ ~It was a 653, a prank call. Nothing’s there. Probably just a teen~ _

_ ~Alright, come on back~ _

Numbly Stiles turned off the radio, staring at the library. Nothing? There was a dead body? Blood everywhere. Obvious signs of a struggle. Stiles had proof, on his body. Blood on his hands. Wounds on his shoulder, around his neck. How could there be nothing?

As soon as the deputy was gone, headlights no longer in sight, Stiles got out of the jeep. Silently he headed towards the library, noticing the book was no longer propping the door open. However he didn’t dare use his key card again to get inside, instead picking the lock. 

Nothing. There was nothing. No blood. No fallen scaffolding. No body. Nothing. Stiles’ heart froze. Had he? What had happened? There was blood on his hands, quite literally. Somewhere there had to be proof that there had been a… a murder. There had to be.

Stiles felt himself drawn to the scaffolding. There didn’t seem to be anything wrong with it. But as soon as he touched it, he felt the blood. Warm, sliding between his fingers. In shock he pulled his hand away, looking down at the new blood on his fingers. Stiles swallowed deeply before fleeing the library.

At home, freshly clean and in a new outfit, Stiles stood in his room. The door was closed, a rare occurrence, and the clear murder board in front of him. Written in print were three different scenarios of what happened. One, Donovan was dead. Two, he’s not dead. And three, someone took the body. 

Tears blurred his vision, bottom lip wobbling, as he angrily erased the board. Nothing made sense. Even if Donovan wasn’t dead the scene of the crime would still be there, or at least signs of it. The last one… who would bother taking his body? Why would they clean up the signs of the crime? How had they even had time?

Stiles gritted his teeth, rubbing his injured shoulder. Stitching it up himself had been fairly easy, even if it wasn’t the best job he had done. There would be a scar. It ached and burnt. A constant reminder of what had happened. Everyone else was at school, or work, while Stiles had called in sick. 

The others would know.

“Stiles!!! We’re back!!!” Cassie called from downstairs, breaking Stiles out of his thought process.

“We’vegotaclue!” Bart was suddenly by his side, dragging him (by his good arm Stiles noted) downstairs, “Everyone’salreadydownstairs.”

“I can barely understand you Bart,” Stiles replied, allowing himself to be dragged.

“Sorry.”

Downstairs the entire pack was there, except Dick and Jason as they were on a date, waiting in the living room. No one was sitting, all just kinda standing around. 

“What’s going on?” Stiles demanded as soon as they were downstairs.

“We’re going to Eichen House to see Valack,” Lydia explained, arms crossed in front of her.

“Well I’m going with.”   
“You don’t have too,” Cassie answered, looking over at Stiles.

“You said you were sick,” Lydia reminded him, “Besides, Cassie, Derek, and Jaime aren’t going.”

“Neither are Dick and Jason,” Scott added.   
“Cause they know it’s a nightmare asylum of insanity and death. I’m going,” Stiles repeated.

As he said that, Stiles went to pull on his hoodie. His shoulder exploded in pain and he couldn’t contain the wince. Silently he hoped nobody noticed and he continued to pull on the hoodie. It was only once he had it fully on that Lydia spoke up. 

“Are you okay? You look like you’re in pain.”

“I’m fine, I slept weird on my shoulder last night,” Stiles brushed off.

“Should you come with us if you’re in pain?”

“Don’t you remember what happened to Deaton when he visited? Or our run in with Brunski?”

Thankfully Lydia dropped it. For some reason Bart wasn’t staying behind with the other two, but Stiles wasn’t going to question it. If they needed a quick getaway… well that was what Bart was for. They all gathered in the Jeep and made their way to Eichen House where Lydia buzzed them in.

“Kira spoke in Japanese,” Scott whispered to Stiles as Bart buzzed around Lydia.

“So?” Stiles asked.

“She doesn’t know or speak Japanese. Earlier she tried to take off Lucas’ head until I stopped her.”

“Apparently she does.” Stiles hesitated a few seconds, before continuing. “Is there ever a time when killing in self-defense is alright?”

“Never. We’re fighting the victims, we’re trying to save them.”

“Why not?” Bart was suddenly there, giving Stiles whiplash. “If it’s us or them, I’m personally rooting for us.”

“Bart.” Stiles’ voice was low with the hint of a warning in it.

Thankfully Lydia saved them from getting into a debate, as the gate opened. A sense of foreboding fell over Stiles. It covered him like a weighted blanket, making it hard to breathe. Bart’s hand slipped into his own and Stiles squeezed it gently. Normally this job would be Jaime’s. They paused and looked behind them as the gate closed.

Stiles swallowed.

Inside the group had to remove everything in their pockets. As Stiles went through he slowly began to feel naked. Nothing in there was obviously a weapon, but Stiles felt bare. The feeling grew when he had to remove his belt. His primary weapon, stripped from him. That was when he noticed the pin. A strange sense of panic fell over him, even as Bart shifted closer.

“I don’t understand why we had to remove our belts,” Kira hissed angrily at Stiles.

“If they got a hold of it they’d be able to strangle themselves,” Stiles replied calmly, even if he felt anything but calm.

“They can do that with bedsheets.”

“Doesn’t matter. It’s legalities.”

Doctor Fenris led them down to the Supernatural Ward of the hospital. As he did so he grumbled, which generally made the rest feel uncomfortable. The entire time Bart stuck close to Stiles.    
Oh how Stiles wished to ask Bart if he knew about Donovan. If he knew what Stiles had done. What Stiles should do? Yet he knew Bart would keep quiet and it would only make the younger feel guilty. So, with an internal sigh, Stiles kept quiet.

“What’s the etiquette for meeting with Doctor Valack?” It was something that Bruce had always reminded him. When you go somewhere new, meet a new villains, you always make sure to know how to properly handle something. “Do we or do we not look into the third eye?”

“Avoid eye contact with all of the patients,” Fenris replied.

After that there was no commentary. They continued down the hallways, past the doors of patients. Some patients screamed, others giggled, and even more banged against the walls and doors. A shiver passed through Stiles’ body. Something strange passed over Stiles, causing goosebumps to rise. His energy reached out briefly, brushing over the energy of something familiar.

“Stiles!” Scott exclaimed, it was only then Stiles noticed that Scott and Kira hadn’t followed them beyond a point. 

“Why can’t we get through?!” Kira demanded.

“Mountain Ash.” Fenris explained. That explained the familiar energy Stiles had felt as he walked past. “It is embedded in these walls, in the floors. You cannot go past this point.”

There are multiple cells down this block. One had a girl with the same facial deformity as the mute. Another held… Stiles heart stopped. It couldn’t be. Donovan? But… Donovan was…

As they passed by Stiles blinked, still looking in the cell. Instead of Donovan, it was a huge creature with large ears and a mouth with many pointed teeth. Air whooshed out of his lungs and his heart restarted. It wasn’t Donovan. This was just his guilt ridden mind, playing tricks at him. 

The hand around his tightened.

“What did you see?!” Valack demanded. “The creature, it is a Sluagh. The myth on the Sluagh is a strange one. Do you know it?” Stiles did, but Valack didn’t give him the chance to explain. “Sluagh can take the appearance of lost souls that have become inextricably bound to it. Who did you see?”

So many names of others that could have appeared fell to Stiles’ lips. None escaped. How many friends have died? How many people could Stiles have saved. And yet, what had appeared to him with the Sluagh had been Donovan. A death that Stiles had caused. One that he had not meant to happen. Guilt, it was the death Stiles felt guilty over. Ashamed that it had ever happened. He was not meant to be a Robin, not meant to be Shadow Fox.

“Did you see any lost souls?” Valack prodded.

“Everyone down here is a lost soul,” Stiles replied. It was the only thing he could think of.

Valack moved closer to the glass separating them, nose barely centimeters away. By Stiles side, Bart inhaled sharply. Instinct prodded Stiles to push Bart behind him. Restraint made him stay still. No fear. Do not let any signs of fear escape. It will give the other an upper hand. Sometimes Bruce’s advice was sound.  _ Sometimes _ .

“Don’t give up on them yet, we’re all works in progress,” Valack quoted.

“Where’d you hear that?” Lydia demanded as Bart whispered.

“Peter.”

“Some wise words from a former cellmate,” Valack growled, hand now on the glass, “I wrote the book ‘ The Dread Doctors’ as a tool to open the eyes of the readers to their existence.” Stiles tightened his hand around Bart’s in an attempt to anchor himself. “I had to protect my professional reputation and so I used a pseudonym instead. I didn’t want to ruin my own name on a second rate piece of trash.” Personally, Stiles would’ve used a stronger word. “The book was written because no one believed me. But they’re back aren’t they? The Dread Doctors are here, in Beacon Hills! They’re not entirely human. Once upon a time they were scientists that worshipped the supernatural.”

There was silence. Then:

“If you want to find the secrets of the universe, think in terms of energy, frequency, and vibration,” Valack quoted.

“Nikola Tesla,” Bart murmured by Stiles’ side.

“The Dread Doctors found their secrets in electromagnetic forces. This allowed them to prolong their lives. It gives them power and, most importantly, it makes you forget them,” Valack paused.

There was more, Stiles knew it, but this time it would cost them. With a speedster, a banshee, and a spark it could cost them anything. Yet, with the way Valack was talking, Stiles knew it wouldn’t be him or Bart. This cost would be Lydia’s.

“There’s more,” Lydia commented.

“Yes, but in order for you to get it you need to scream for me Lydia. Record it, then give it to me.” Valack was right up against the glass, eyes solely on Lydia.

Next to him, Bart inhaled sharply.

“No, no way.” That inhale meant something bad happened because of something in the future.

“Stiles, there’s more. Let me record it!” Lydia begged.

“He’s a nutjob!”

“How many have died?” God why couldn’t Valack just shut up. “Do you want to know how many died the first time the Dread Doctors came here? It’s happened before. They’re back because of a few teenagers who never even considered the consequences and decided to reignite a supernatural force they barely understand.”

“The Nemeton,” Lydia murmured, as though they didn’t know what he was talking about.

“How would you know?” Stiles asked, ignoring how Bart whispered his name in warning.

“I saw it.” Valack removed the bandage over his third eye. “I knew you would bring Kira. She’ll short circuit the electromagnetic defenses and allow the Dread Doctors to enter Eichen House.”

The lights flickered. It was already happening. In desperation Stiles looked at Bart, who visibly steeled himself and nodded. Then the younger was gone. Stiles hair whipped around and Lydia brushed hers out of her face. Despite this, Valack still bargained.

“Record it Lydia, it’s the only way,” Valack urged.

“Let’s bargain with him!” Stiles argued.

“What does the book do?!” Lydia demanded.

“It clears the memory centers of the brain, allowing you to remember the Dread Doctors. If you’ve seen them, if they’ve done something to you, then you’ll remember. Anyone taken by them will remember after reading the book. I wrote it in the hopes finding others like me, that have seen them before.”

A light broke and Stiles just stood there. He didn’t even stop Lydia when she took the digital recorder. It was no use. Either way, Lydia would find a way to give it to him. Even if she used her own phone. Yet Stiles made it very clear how he felt about this.

Alarms began to sound once Lydia returned the recorder. It was loud and Stiles drew energy from the lights, letting the alarms continue to blare. All the lights but the emergency failed. Pure white energy surrounded Stiles hands.

“What do they want?!” Lydia demanded.

“Read the books!” Valack shouted.

“Lydia! We need to hide!” Stiles couldn’t win this fight, but maybe they could hide.

Allowing the energy to seep inside him, simmering just beneath the surface, Stiles and Lydia hid. Inside a cell they crouched, just out of sight. They kept their breathing light and calm, barely a sound escaping them. Shadows from the Dread Doctors fell into the cell and they held their breaths. But the Doctors didn’t see them. 

A scream erupted and Lydia covered her ears. Stiles shut his eyes tightly and hid his face in Lydia’s side. The scream cut off abruptly and Stiles reopened his eyes, looking out. Once again the Dread Doctor’s walked by without noticing them. Yet they stayed there.

“I think we’re okay,” Lydia whispered.

“Okay, we are so not okay? This is our fault,” Stiles hissed, “We are to blame for everything they do, they are doing, and what they are going to do.”   
“It’s our responsibility.”

**_*******BATWOLF******_ **

“In Parrish’s dreams, he takes the dead bodies to the Nemeton. We’ve already looked for it but we can’t find it.” Him and Theo were in the library.

While he still didn’t trust Theo, he had a mutual respect thing. For now at least. It was more, mutual blackmail. Theo had killed Josh, Stiles was the only one that knew. Stiles had killed Donovan, Theo was the only one that would use it against him. The only other possible that one would know is Bart. He wouldn’t use that against him.

“If Lydia finds the Nemeton she finds Donovan,” Theo reminded him.   
“She also finds Josh,” Stiles snapped, gripping his pen tighter.

“Maybe we should come clean?” And loose the blackmail, nice try Theo. “Scott is different now. Maybe he’ll understand that it was self-defense.”

In the middle of the library, Stiles saw himself impaled with a rod. It was exactly like how Donovan died. Yet different. This was with him, no mercury coming out of his body. 

“Maybe.”

After some time Theo left, yet Stiles stayed. At least until the bell rang. Then he left, on autopilot, and made his way down the hall. It seemed that most of the pack had left. Liam wasn’t there, neither was Scott or Theo, even Kira was gone. As for the teen heroes, Stiles didn’t see any sign of Jaime or Bart. Then again, their next class was on the complete other side of school. Which meant their path wouldn’t cross.

“Cassie!” Stiles called out, seeing the blonde of their group.

She looked at him. Immediately Stiles knew something was wrong. Tears, big fat ugly ones, were running down her face. Stiles rushed up to her, grabbing her shoulders. Something had happened.

“I hate this, I hate this.” Cassie let out a shuddering sob. “I hate losing like this. I know I should be used to it but I can’t, I just can’t. I can’t deal with another body. Another failure. Another life I couldn’t save!”

As she spoke, she seemed to get more and more worked out. The tears streamed down her face, her face reddening. It was almost comforting to know that Amazon’s could also be ugly criers, but not when it was one of his friends. 

With power that was solely Cassie’s, out of their group at least, she yanked herself out of his grip. Tears continuing to fall she ran off. Stiles’ shoulders sagged. If only Dick’s classroom wasn’t on the complete opposite side of the school. He needed his brother.

It was later that Stiles was called to go the animal shelter. The entire day he had basically been alone. No brothers, no pack, no heroes. It was only, him. Now… now he might find out why.

Scott was waiting outside, hands clenched in a fist. Stiles was immediately on guard. Something was wrong. Yet he pretended not to notice. There wasn’t enough information. 

“I repaired Roscoe… kinda. Still having issues with the engine,” Stiles said, patting the top of Roscoe’s hood.

There was silence. It was like Scott couldn’t talk to him. This was just making him uncomfortable. It was scaring him. Scott never acted like this. Not as far as Stiles knew. Not unless…

Scott pulled the wrench out of his coat. Donovan’s blood still on it.

Stiles inhaled.

Then he spoke, “Where’d you get that?” His voice wavered.

“So it is yours?” Scott sounded like the ground beneath his feet had been torn away.

“Yeah.” Stiles could barely speak.

“I know about Donovan.”

No… he. Stiles didn’t know what to do. What to say. Everything was spiraling out of control. This wasn’t how Scott was supposed to find out. But Scott was never supposed to know. Ignorance is bliss. Yet the blissfulness was gone with the harsh truth.

“You think I had a choice?” Stiles forced out, eyes burning with unshed tears.

“There’s always a choice,” Scott shot back.

God, Stiles wished he still believed that. “Yeah?” Emotion filled his voice. “Well I can’t do what you can Scott!” He needed to distance himself. Like Batman. “I know you wouldn’t have done it. You probably would have just figured something out right?” 

“I try.”

Bitterness was beginning to slip in. “Yeah because you’re Scott McCall! You’re the True Alpha! Guess what, all of us can’t be True Alphas. Some of us have to make mistakes. Some of us have to get our hands a little bloody sometimes. Some of us are human!” But Stiles isn’t human. Not anymore. He hasn’t been since the Nogitsune.

“So you had to kill him?”

Tears were freely streaming down Stiles’ face. What could he do to make Scott understand? It was self-defense! His entire body was screaming at him to do something. Yet he was tired. He was oh so tired. Of everything. Why was this happening? What had he done? Why? 

“Scott, he was going to kill me…” Was he supposed to let it happen?

“The way that it happened, there’s a point that, it’s just, it’s not self-defense anymore.” 

“What’re you even talking about?! I didn’t have a choice Scott.” There was a beat of silence. Realization coming over Stiles. “You don’t believe me, do you?”

“I want to.”   
That hurt more than the bite on his shoulder. Than any injury he had ever acquired.

“Okay, alright, so believe me then. Scott, say you believe me.” Nothing. “Say it.” Silence. “Say you believe me.” It was desperate now.

“Stiles, we can’t kill the people we’re trying to save.”

“Say you believe me!” He couldn’t lose Scott. He couldn’t.

“We can’t kill people! Do you believe that?!” 

Desperation came through in his actions, in his voice. There had to be something. Something that he could do. “What do I do about this?!” He couldn’t take it back. You can’t take something like that back. It’s too late. There was so much blood on his hands. “What do you want me to do okay?! Scott, just tell me how to fix this alright?” He was exhausted, tired. There was no fight left in him. “Please, just tell me what do you want me to do?”

There was silence, Scott just staring at him. Perhaps trying to find the truth in his words. Yet Scott was blinded by everything. Maybe there wasn’t anything Stiles could do.

“Talk to Dick, talk to Bruce,” Scott snapped finally. 

The werewolf turned and walked away. Rain pounded around him.

Stiles was alone. Only the bloodied wrench left.

**_******BATWOLF******_ **

Somehow he had begun to drive. It wasn’t smart. He shouldn’t be driving when his emotions were all over the place. Much less when it was raining. But he couldn’t stay. He just… he couldn’t. Now he was just driving. Maybe… maybe he could figure out what to do now.

The engine spluttered, then stopped.

“No, no… not now,” Stiles begged silently. The jeep didn’t listen. 

There was enough momentum for Stiles to pull the jeep to the curb. For a few minutes he just sat behind the wheel, ignoring the tears starting to form. Then he forced open the car door and grabbed the wrench kit. As he got out he threw the kit on the ground. Hands shaking he roughly opened the hood of the car. His anger was blinding him in his movements.

Stiles knelt down and opened the wrench kit. There was one slot empty, the biggest slot. Tears threatened to fall over. If they did it would be hidden by the rain. In a fit of rage Stiles wrestled with the wrench kit and threw them blindly. He forced the hood closed, ignoring the loud slam when it shut. Chest heaving he grabbed the bloodied wrench from the passenger’s seat and moved to throw it down the road. At the last second he hesitated, turned, and threw it at the windshield. The windshield cracked where the wrench hit it.

A ragged scream escaped his lips and he stumbled to the side of the car. There his knees buckled and he slid down the side of the car, head leaning against the wheel behind him. Water soaked his clothes and his hair dripped. Tears mingled with the rain on his face. 

Once he had gathered himself together, enough at least, Stiles fumbled with his phone. There were a few texts from the teen heroes, most of them from Bart and a few from Cassie and Jaime. One was from Jason, three from Dick, and a handful from Derek. Stiles ignored them. Instead he thumbed in the first number that came to head.

Two rings, then an answer.

_ ~Tt, why are you calling cousin? Need my help?~ _

“How do you… how do you live with it?”

There was a few seconds of silence.  _ ~What are you referring?~ _

“Death, the guilt…”

Damian took a few moments, as though to let it sink in.  _ ~Did you kill someone cousin?~ _

This put Stiles on the defensive. “I didn’t mean too! It was… it was an accident…”

_ ~Tt, you shouldn’t feel guilty then.~  _ Damian continued when Stiles didn’t say anything.  _ ~There isn’t exactly a way to  _ deal _. It’s more of a matter of living with it.~ _

“Alright…”

_ ~Tt, this was a one time thing cousin. Call Grayson next time you want comfort~  _ Damian hung up.

Despite the talk, Stiles still felt… shaky. Without reading any of the texts he entered Derek’s chat. On autopilot his fingers typed out a message, asking Derek to come get him. Immediately after he called in a tow truck. Instead of returning to the car Stiles stayed seated besides the car. 

It was only once the tow truck arrived, Derek driving down the road moments later, that Stiles moved. His clothes were soaked through, hair stuck to the side of his face. It continued to rain as the tow truck pulled the Jeep away. 

“You okay?” Derek had parked and was now right beside him. One of Derek’s jackets was draped over him, Stiles’ hand curling around it.

“Does it look like I am?” Stiles allowed himself to get lead inside the Camaro, sitting in the passenger seat.

“Well, you look upset. You smell upset,” Derek commented, glancing back at the jeep, “Can the Jeep be fixed?”   
“It’s too far gone.” Stiles exhaled softly and tightened the jacket around him, sinking into the seat. “It had a bad alternator, all the belts need to be replaced, the transmission is hanging on by a thread, all the brake pads are metal on metal.”   
“How’d it get so bad?” Derek asked, reaching over and brushing Stiles’ hair back while still watching the road.

Instead of leaning into it, Stiles moved his head away. Stiles could practically feel the hurt wafting off the alpha. Yet he couldn’t muster the energy to do anything. He just felt… empty. There was nothing left. All of it felt drained out of him. It was just, gone.

“There’s been a few distractions, if you haven’t noticed,” Stiles murmured softly, leaning his head against the window.

“I notice. For example.” Derek rested a hand on his shoulder, the one that Donovan injured. “I noticed this. I’ve noticed that since you’ve gotten this you’ve changed.”

“Derek.” Now Stiles felt guilty, it got worse when Derek’s hand retracted.

“Am I taking you home?”   
Stiles swallowed back the guilt, shaking his head. “No… I need to talk to Jason. At the Sheriff’s office.”

“Alright.”   
The ride went by in silence. It was only broken a few times, by a change in the radio station or an attempt in conversation. All attempts failed. Eventually Derek just gave up, allowing Stiles to doze. At least, until they got close to the Sheriff’s office. Then Derek tried to start up a conversation, once again.

“Are you telling Jason about Donovan?” Derek asked.

“What?!” Stiles flailed in surprise, rolling over to look at Derek. Then he repeated breathlessly, “What?”

“I guessed. I saw the bite on your shoulder and then, suddenly, there was no more mention of Donovan. No signs of him. I hadn’t said anything because… well.” Derek gestured broadly to his eyes. “I’ve killed before. I also know that you would never kill anyone. So it had to be an accident.”

Stiles nodded numbly, swallowing down the lump in his throat. It didn’t erase what he had done, certainly didn’t make it better, but it made Stiles feel slightly better. At least he knew that Derek wasn’t going to pull a Scott and turn on him. 

“Thanks…” Stiles whispered softly.

Derek just grinned at him, reaching over to squeeze his knee. At that moment they pulled into the Sheriff’s station. For a moment, Stiles steeled himself before getting out of the car.

“You want me to come in?” Derek asked.

Stiles shook his head, shutting the door. The window rolled down.

“It doesn’t matter to me, it certainly won’t matter to Jason,” Derek reminded him.   
“But it matters to me,” Stiles responded, soft enough that anyone passing by won’t hear it but Derek will.

Thankfully, Derek didn’t say anything else. Instead he rolled up the window and backed out, exiting the parking lot. Once Derek was out of sight Stiles turned and headed inside. A deputy, female, new, was behind the counter. The nametag read Timothy. 

“Sheriff Todd isn’t in right now, left about half an hour ago,” Deputy Timothy informed him.

“I’ll just wait in his office then,” Stiles commented.

“Uh, your foster siblings are already in there. They came in about… fifteenish minutes ago.”

“Thanks.”

Was it just Stiles or was the station hotter than normal? Maybe one of the newer deputies turned the thermostat up higher. Well, higher than what it was normally at. This happened sometimes. Nothing abnormal.

“Stiles!” Bart was immediately in front of him when the door opened, tugging him into the office. The second Jaime closed the door Bart’s arms were around him tightly.

“Whoa,” Stiles’ wrapped his right arm around Bart.

“Were you crying?” Cassie demanded, getting right up into his face.

“What happened hermano?” Jaime asked. The elder rested a hand on his shoulder gently.

Stiles winced, despite his shoulder no longer giving him pain. Suddenly his mouth felt dry. His chest seized up. It suddenly became very difficult to breath. 

Every part of him just wanted to collapse and sleep the rest of the day away. He couldn’t. Not yet. There was still so much left to do. The day wasn’t over yet. Besides, he still had yet to talk to Jason.

“Stiles?” Jaime prodded.

“You know, don’t you?” Stiles asked Bart softly.

Embarrassed, Bart ducked his head. Then he nodded, refusing to look anybody in the eye. Both Cassie and Jaime exchanged a glance. Neither said anything.

“Know what?” Cassie finally demanded.

Bart looked sheepish. “It’snotformetosay…”

“Stiles.” Cassie turned to him. “What in the name of Zeus is going on?”   
“Look, it…” Stiles ran a hand through his hair. They wouldn’t be worse than Scott right? “A few nights ago… give or take a few days, I was in the library. I was, attacked by a chimera… Donovan.” Cassie inhaled sharply and looked down. Jaime’s eyes narrowed slightly, clearly hearing some things from Khaji. “I tried to get away and… it didn’t work. I climbed some scaffolding and pulled out the pin.” Stiles could see it all in his mindseye, feel the terror. “It fell and…” Stiles swallowed, throat suddenly closing up.

“Donovan died,” Bart finished, his voice distanced in a way only those the event didn’t affect could accomplish.

Everyone else flinched at the detached way Bart said that. In particular, Jaime seemed slightly disturbed. As though noticing Bart looked down at his feet, which were swinging back and forth in the air, and kept quiet. It seemed that Jaime didn’t know what to say.

“Amazons don’t view death like you do,” Cassie commented slowly, “It’s a part of war. For us, it’s not a taboo thing. Sometimes there’s nothing you can do to prevent it.”

“He killed someone!” Jaime couldn’t seem to grasp it.

“I’ve killed,” Bart spoke up solemnly, “In the future it was kill or be killed. I avoided it as best I could but…”

“Bart…”

Before the conversation could continue, alarms went off. It was almost like an agreement came across the group. This could all wait until later. Maybe by then they would all calm down enough to actually have a talk. Without arguing.

“Parrish!” Cassie exclaimed, getting held back from Stiles.

The deputy was on fire. No, Stiles was not kidding. Parrish was, quite literally, on fire. There was no clothing on him, except a pair of boxers. Were they fireproof or something? Where’d he get them? It’d be nice to have a fireproof suit.

“Por el amor de Dios,” Jaime murmured in exasperation.

“Let him go!” Stiles yelled at the deputies, who had risen their weapons. “Don’t shoot!”

Sometime’s being the brother of the Sheriff, as well as his temporary ward, had some upsides. Like the Deputies listening to his suggestion. That, or the way he had said it convinced them to listen. Either way, it worked. They all froze, letting Parrish go by without incident.

The teenagers followed.

_ ~Who are you trying to call?~  _ Jaime was flying above him and Bart with Cassie. 

Thankfully his motorbike was able to be summoned. After a quick change, as Jaime went forward after Parrish, Stiles followed. Now he was in an impound lot, motorbike beside him, as he tried to reach Scott. There wasn’t exactly a logical reason to this, despite trying to mend things, and he scowled every time he got voicemail.

“Who do you think?” Stiles asked back, not really in the mood.

His mood darkened when Theo appeared.

“Stiles.” His hands clenched as Theo came closer. “I’ve always known you were ShadowFox. The great Stiles Stilinski-Wayne comes to Beacon Hills with three others and four superheroes appear. Very suspicious. Of course, you could be Blue Beetle. But Blue Beetle speaks Spanish and you happen to have Jaime Garcia, who speaks spanish fluently.”

“Disculpe,” Stiles spat. ( _ ~Excuse you~ _ )

“Clever, but I know it’s you.”

“I’m trying to call Scott.” That was more for the sake of Jaime, who wouldn’t be able to hear Theo. “I need to find him.”

“Scott doesn’t want to talk to you.”

There was silence for a few minutes, Jaime trying to get Stiles’ attention over the comms. Yet Stiles didn’t say anything. Especially since Theo seemed unable to hear Jaime’s yelling in his ear. Maybe it was because of Oracle, aka Barbara, fixing it so that the supernatural beings couldn’t hear it. Stiles had tested it out by convincing Bart to say unsavory things about Derek over the comm. 

“You weren’t there Stiles, I killed him. I killed Donovan for you. He was going to kill you in front of Jason you know?” Stiles was slowly getting angrier. It grew when Theo lifted his library ID, flipping it between his fingers. 

“Where’d you get that?” Stiles demanded. “What’d you do to Jason!” Of course Stiles knew Jason had gotten it somehow.

_ ~Fox, what’s going on?~  _ Cassie demanded over the comms.

_ ~What happened to Jason?~  _ Jaime asked.

“You see Stiles, I came to Beacon Hills for the pack. I came for the alpha, the one that killed his uncle and first girlfriend. I came for the banshee, the girl surrounded by death. I came for the Amazon, the Beatle, and the Speedster. Those that had the power to kill and had killed before. I came for the dark Kitsune, the beta with anger issues. I came for Void Stiles. That’s the pack I want. Unfortunately it doesn’t include Scott.” At the end, Theo was right up in his face. 

Stiles’ power simmered beneath his skin, a glow starting to form. Subconsciously he was holding his breath, heart pounding against his ribs. His fingers flexed and he turned his head away when Theo took another step towards him. The energy of Theo slid over his skin, clinging to his own impure energy. 

“I can hear your heart rate rising.” Theo’s breath touched his ear and made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. None of this was in the good way. “It’s not from fear.” Try anger. “The Nogitsune might be gone but you have more blood on your hands than anyone.” Stiles was fairly certain he could create a very good argument there.

“I’m about to get more blood on them,” Stiles growled, his hands glowing with energy.

_ ~STILES!~  _ Cassie and Jaime chorused. Bart was still suspiciously silent.

“I’ll tell you where the Sheriff is if you don’t help Scott,” Theo taunted.

Without even thinking, Stiles punched him. The energy from his hand burnt into Theo’s skin, even if it healed moments later, and Theo’s head snapped to the side. While it didn’t do anything to help, it felt good. When Theo started chuckling Stiles punched him again, the intensity of the energy burning Theo’s skin. It healed once again. 

“You’ll get it eventually!” Theo taunted, taking a step back. “You can’t save the Sheriff and Scott, but you still have time to save the Sheriff.”

_ ~I’ve already got help going to Scott, don’t worry about him!~  _ Bart called through the comm.  _ ~Jaime, be ready to rush Jason to the hospital. It’s pretty moded.~ _

_ ~Carajo~  _ Jaime cussed.

Theo told Stiles where Jason was. Fear filling him, Stiles got on the motorbike and drove away. As he got farther away from Theo Stiles relayed the location. Somehow, Stiles got there first. An abandoned house, one that the Dread Doctor’s had used in the past. 

“JASON!!” Stiles screamed, entering the house.

On the ground, Jason lay. Bloody and beaten, eyes closed. There were bullets and shells on the floor, scattered around. Proof that Jason had put up a fight. A blink, and then Stiles could see auras. Jason’s was flickering. Tears fell down Stiles’ cheek as he rushed to Jason’s side. 

Hands glowing, Stiles placed them on Jason’s chest. His own energy began to seep into Jason’s, caressing it and urging it to heal. Energy joining Jason’s to give him a healing boost. More and more energy entered Jason, Stiles growing weaker. Cassie and Jaime entered right as Stiles began to sway, then fell over. Weakly he argued with Cassie as she held him, Jaime rushing Jason to the hospital.

Blackness overcame him.

**_*******BATWOLF******_ **

Stiles groggily stirred in Cassie’s arms later. For a moment all he knew was the sky above him, before he realized that Cassie was flying. It wasn’t the first time he had woken up in the air (*cough*Clark*cough*) so he didn’t freak out immediately. They had landed by the time Stiles fully remembered what happened.

“Jason just got wheeled in, they need the insurance,” Jaime informed him.

“B is not gonna be happy,” Stiles muttered, heading inside. Thankfully he always carried his insurance card, which also happened to be Jason’s, on him. 

“I’ve gotta go, good look ese.” Before Stiles could say anything Jaime jogged outside.

“I’ll talk to him,” Bart sighed, reaching over and squeezing Stiles’ arm before rushing after Jaime.

This left him and Cassie, but Stiles walked away from the amazon. Right now he needed to deal with the insurance coverage and cost. It wouldn’t be an issue, normally. The person behind the desk, a Nurse Thompson, seemed unable to work the computer.

“He’s the sheriff,” Stiles snapped, too frustrated and tired to deal with this, “Not a deputy!”

“What’s going on?” Thank God for Melissa. “Oh, I see. You just need to click that.”

Thankfully the other nurse followed the directions Melissa gave her. After that she seemed okay. Stiles practically sagged against the countertop, putting his head in his hands. The past few days, the past two weeks, had been awful. All he wanted to do now was curl up in a ball and do nothing. When was the last time he had slept?

“I texted Scott, he’s on his way,” Melissa informed him, “Do you want me to call Derek?”

“Don’t… he… he doesn’t need to deal with this right now.” More like Stiles didn’t want to bug him again. “Don’t call anyone…”

“Any next of kin I should contact?” Nurse Thompson asked.

“I can contact them,” Stiles whispered softly, “I’m his brother.”   
When Stiles returned to the seat in the waiting room, he ignored Cassie. After a few minutes Cassie squeezed his shoulder and stood up, making an excuse about letting Dick know, before leaving him alone. Somehow this brought tears to his eyes and he leaned forward, scrubbing at the tears angrily. Goddammit, he’s Shadow Fox. He’s a Robin! He shouldn’t be crying like this.

His body didn’t agree.

“Stiles, you need to wake up.” When had he fallen asleep? Was that Jason talking. “Stiles, Stiles. Wake up.”

His eyes fluttered open and he caught sight of Melissa shaking him gently. There was a smile on her face. One that Stiles had come to learn meant that everything was alright. Tension flooded out of his body as he looked up at her.

“Jason came through the surgery just fine. He’ll make a full recovery,” Melissa informed him.

“When can I see him?” Stiles immediately asked.

“It’ll be two hours before the anesthesia wakes off.”

Stiles relaxed further, muttering a quiet thank you under his breath as tears began to form. He leaned forward in the seat and buried his face in his hands. A hand rested on his shoulder for a few seconds, squeezing it, before releasing. 

As usual, everything had to go wrong.

At some point Dick had come in, looking angry with his brows drawn together. For a few minutes he had just sat besides Stiles without a word. It was, unusual to see Dick this angry. This worried Stiles some. Yet he didn’t say a word. Afraid that Dick was angry at him.

“Stiles, Dick… there’s been a development,” Melissa informed them, bringing them up to Jason’s room.

“What happened?” Dick demanded.

Stiles noticed the clenching of his fists, but didn’t comment. At the moment Dick was a time bomb. Anything could set him of. Stiles wished he knew what had happened. Besides the obvious. 

Dr. Geyer, Liam’s step dad, stepped forward and began explaining. With every word Stiles felt his heart plummeting. To sum it up, Jason was dying. Again. There was nothing Stiles could do. He had, he had done all he could. The doctor’s had done everything they could do. What else could be done?

“...The sheriff had been fine, recovering, but now he’s suddenly declined. It looks like someone took a baseball bat to his neck,” Dr Geyer finished.

As though he it was a dream, Stiles shut his eyes tightly. Tears were threatening to pour over. God, he was so _ angry  _ right now. By his side Dick turned away, running a hand through his hair. Stiles could barely handle the thought of Jason dying now. Dick. Dick had to go through it again. The second time. It must be even worse for Dick.

“We don’t know what’s wrong with him,” Melissa admitted softly.

This was the last straw for Dick, who punched the wall. At the sound of the fist hitting the wall, Stiles’ eyes opened. That was when he spotted Stiles. Later, he would be able to explain what happened. He was angry. So angry, and seeing Stiles just pushed it all over. Ignoring the calls for his name he stalked over to the alpha, a faint glow to his hands, and pushed him against the wall.

“WHERE WERE YOU?!” Stiles roared, pushing Scott against the wall more forcefully. WHERE WERE YOU WHEN HE WAS GETTING ATTACKED?!” At the moment he forgot that Jason had probably been ambushed. As the Red Hood was more than capable of taking care of himself. “YOU TRUSTED THEO!! YOU TRUSTED HIM OVER ME!! THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT!! WHERE WERE YOU?!” Tears fell from his eyes, hot and angry. 

Someone, Dick, pulled him away from Scott. Still, Stiles tugged his arms in Dick’s grip and tried to get away. Dick didn’t budge. Eventually Stiles sagged in his grip, allowing Dick to hold him. Angry tears continued to fall from Stiles’ eyes.

“Jason isn’t the only one who got hurt,” Scott told him.

“You’ll heal,” Stiles snapped bitterly.

“Stiles,” Dick whispered in his ear, reprimanding.

“I’m not talking about me.” Scott wouldn’t look him in the eye.

“Who’re you talking about?” Dick asked once it became clear Stiles wasn’t going too.

“Lydia.”

That was all that was needed for Stiles to tug himself out of Dick’s arms. Without a word he walked past Scott, ignoring him when he followed. If Dick followed or not, Stiles didn’t care. All he cared about was making sure no one else died. Not today.

It was Parrish, Scott, Melissa, and himself downstairs. All of them compared notes on Lydia’s condition. Everything they agreed on. Catatonic, penetration marks from claws on the back of her neck, bloodied finger. All signs that Theo, presumably, had taken her memories forcefully. This wasn’t good. It didn’t help that they were also wondering why he attacked both Jason and Lydia.

“Theo didn’t want Jason, it was a distraction. He told me exactly where he was,” Stiles informed them, running a hand through his hair. “Theo might know how to save him.”

“I’ll go with you,” Scott offered immediately.

“No! I don’t want to fight, I want information.”

“I can help you get it.”   
“Wouldn’t Bart know something?” Jordan spoke up, blinking when everyone turned to look at him. “I mean. Isn’t he from the future?”

“He’s not exactly forthcoming with information, but he might give me a hint.”

That was how Stiles ended up sitting in the living room, Bart speeding around eating his favorite snack, and an exasperated Jaime trying to calm the speedster down. This was his life. At least Bart was more likely to say something now. After all, Stiles had bribed him for information. It would take Bart a few hours, speedster time, to decide. 

Suddenly the streak around the room stopped in front of Stiles, crumbs all over the speedster’s face. A second later Jaime was there, wiping the crumbs away with a grumble. Stiles waited patiently as Bart tried to swat Jaime away.

“Talking to Theo won’t help,” Bart told him, managing to get Jaime away.

“Okay, who do I go to?” Stiles asked.

“I don’t know his name.”

“Who?”   
“Chimera. Idon’tknowhowyouandScottfoundhimthefirsttime.”

It wasn’t much information, but it was more than Stiles had before. With a quiet thank you Stiles headed outside, the SUV keys in his hands. It was technically Jason’s car when he wasn’t using the Sheriff’s cruiser, but it’d work for now. He turned the car over and went to pull over when Scott appeared in the way.

“I don’t need your help!” Stiles shouted at him.

“I can find the clues you can’t,” Scott replied.

Stiles scoffed, the only one that could do that would be Bruce or Tim. Possibly even another one of the Batkids. Certainly not a teenage werewolf. 

“You need the whole pack’s help,” Scott told him. Stiles just rose an eyebrow. “I could text Liam or Derek.”

“Or Dick, or Bart, or Jaime, or Cassie. They’d be better.” Stiles just stared at Scott. “Besides, didn’t Liam just try to kill you?” Scott didn’t say anything so Stiles continued. “You trusted Theo’s lies before you trusted me.”

“So did you!”

“You don’t know the full story.”

“I don’t need too. Jason’s all that matters right now. We survived an alpha pack, a dark druid, and professional assassins. We’ll survive Dread Doctors and Chimeras.”

“We’re not looking for a chimera… we’re looking for a missing teenager,” Stiles muttered, unlocking the doors and getting out.

The two ran into Stiles’ room, ignoring the three other teens in the house. At some point Cassie came in to help them search. They reviewed police calls, Cassie marking down any names that came through. This way they could look through the list of potential chimeras. Eventually they stopped on one.   
“Noah Patrick, he didn’t come home last night.” Stiles didn’t need to add that it was the same night Jason got attacked. “He’s on the potential list.”

As they left the house, Stiles couldn’t help but notice that Bart and Jaime were no longer there. Checking the fridge, where they posted notes of who they were with and where, Stiles found a new note from Jaime. It was written in the sprawl Jaime had when he was in a hurry. Usually that was Bart’s fault. 

_ Out with Liam and Mason, don’t know when we’ll be back. _

“Stiles! Let’s go!” Cassie called, tossing his red hoodie at him.

“I’m coming! I’m coming!” Stiles shouted back, pulling it on and rushing outside.

At the school, Scott already had some of Noah’s clothing. It smelled from here so Stiles kinda felt bad for him. Footsteps reached Stiles’ ear and he tensed, hand pulling out his whip. A familiar hand rested on his shoulder and Stiles relaxed with a sigh.

“What’re you doing here?” Stiles demanded.

“Well, my boyfriend’s brother is dying in a hospital and I wanted to help. Even if I did have to get the call from Dick and a call for help from Scott,” Derek responded, tugging Stiles against him.

“We should be calling in everyone,” Scott reminded him.   
“Besides, out of all of us. I have the best sense of smell.”

Stiles felt betrayed by Cassie, as she didn’t speak up in his defense. Traitor.

“Let’s get going.” Derek pushed him slightly. “Cassie, take the air. See if you can catch any sign of him.”

The group started off. As they drove, Derek and Scott sniffed the air. The windows were open for better tracking. Above them Cassie flew, in contact through the comms. Stiles gave her directions where to go as he drove, as well as a steady commentary between the two.

“RIGHT!” Derek suddenly exclaimed, Scott agreeing seconds later.

“Cassie, turn right,” Stiles ordered.

_ ~It’s just a warehouse. The road ends, you’re gonna have to go on foot.~ _

With the car parked, Stiles and the other two climbed out. A moment later Cassie landed besides them. The group of four wandered throughout the warehouse, following Noah’s scent.  Eventually they ended up underground. In a group of tunnels.

“These are the tunnels under the water plant,” Scott commented as Stiles shone the flashlight around, “You know? The ones that we searched for Hayden and Liam through.”   
“I don’t care,” Stiles snapped, though he did file that information in the back of his head, “We’re wasting time. Jason is  _ dying _ .”

“Again,” Cassie added, almost offhandedly.

There was a flash of movement, too quick for Stiles to tell what it was. Before something, someone, rammed into him. His head surged forward and slammed into the concrete. Vision swimming Stiles stumbled, falling into Derek’s arms. His vision went black.

_ “Come on Stiles,” Jason called out, “You gotta get up.” _

_ Young Stiles, who was now nine, glared up at his older brother. Currently he was on his back, having been knocked down by the elder. A bo staff, Tim’s favorite weapon, was weakly held in his hand. Everything ached. This was, what?, the thirtieth time Jason had knocked him down. Something like that. _ _   
_ _ “Awe, don’t do that. Don’t cry Stiles,” Jason sighed. _

_ Was he crying? Probably. It was just them, during the worst month(s) of his life. Bruce was gone, Tim was gone, Dick was gone, Barbara was gone, so was Cass. Even Alfred was gone. It had barely been a year since he was adopted by Bruce. A year since his entire life had changed. Since his mother had died, since his father had passed, since he had become Robin. It was too much for the nine year old to handle. _

_ “Look,” Jason knelt in front of him, lifting his chin with a finger, “No matter what happens; I’ll be there. Hell, the superheroes will be there.  _ **_But me, kid you’re stuck with me._ ** _ ” _

As he got to his feet, brushing off Scott’s hand, Stiles wondered if Jason would be breaking his promise. 

Both Derek and Cassie were double teaming Noah, successfully capturing him without issue. The second Noah was captured he changed back. Fear, terror, marred the boy’s face. Something wasn’t right. Noah, he was running from something.

“The Dread Doctors, they’re coming for me!!” Noah wailed. 

Noah went to run but Stiles easily grabbed him. The chimera began to struggle. It was fairly easy to keep him in place. More so since Stiles had dealt with stronger beings than Noah. 

“I don’t remember! I never remember when I transform!! Please!!” Noah screeched, twisting in Stiles’ arms.

Stiles’ grip tightened, “Do you remember clawing my brother to half to death?! He’s dying from poison because of you!”

“I’m sorry!!”

As they ran down the tunnels, Stiles had to refrain from attacking Noah. In no way would that help Jason. Besides, maybe Noah would be helpful. Doubtful, but still. If there was even the slightest chance… he had to take it. With a lot of caution, admittedly. He wouldn’t be one of the Batkids if he wasn’t.

“No!” Noah ran forward, slamming his hand against the locked gate.

“Mierda,” Stiles cursed.

“I could transform and break it.” Noah was already preparing to shift. Silently, Stiles grabbed his belt and clenched a fist. “I might loose control. Get back.”

At least Noah had the foresight to warn him. Not many people did.

As Noah began to shift Stiles took a few steps back. If there was any sign of something going wrong, Stiles would attack. Regardless of the consequences. No killing, Dick was hesitant with him enough, but enough injuries to keep him from doing anything. For a long, long time.

Bony spikes grew out of Noah’s arm, one broken and bloody. Realization dawned. Then the gate broke open. The two ran off, the sound of a fight behind them. As they ran Stiles fumbled with his phone and sent a quick text to Dick. Bone marrow poisoning.

Later on Stiles entered the hospital, Derek and Scott by his side. Argent and Cassie lingered behind them, which Stiles wished Scott would do. This didn’t affect them. Honestly Cassie and Scott should switch places, as it affected her more than Scott. 

As they entered an exhausted looking Dick and Melissa made eye contact with them. Both smiled, Dick’s looked more relieved, and Stiles’ knees weakening in relief. Derek rested his hand on his shoulder and squeezed, before releasing. Everything was going to be alright. Hopefully.

Eventually it dwindled down to just Stiles in Jason’s room. With Jason in the hospital, someone had to be with the other teenage heroes. Someone also needed to debrief with Batman. Dick drew the short straw. So here Stiles was, exhausted and his head resting on his arm. Eyelids fluttering as he tried desperately to stay awake. There was movement on the bed and Stiles looked up.

Jason was awake. Drugged, but awake. One of Jason’s calloused hands rested on Stiles’ arm. A tired grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. 

“Told ya. You’re stuck with me.”

**_********BATWOLF********_ **

At some point, Stiles had drifted off. He wasn’t sure exactly when that was. After all, every day was running together. Every hour seemed the same. All he could determine was that he fell asleep after Jason woke up (and later fell asleep again).    
As Stiles began to case the room, mentally, he realized he wasn’t where he was when he fell asleep. Hunched over in a chair, head on the bed, wasn’t the same as lying straight out. There was fabric over him and a bed beneath him. More awake now Stiles sat up. Had Dick taken him home at some point? No. He was still in Jason’s hospital room. In Jason’s bed!! But where was Jason?!

“Jason?!” Stiles called out, slipping out of the bed and putting his shoes on. Energy gathered around his hand. “Jay?!”

Eventually Stiles found him in the morgue. Usually Jason avoided the morgue as much as he could, even going as far as sending others in, so Stiles became wary as he entered. Better safe than sorry. Especially when it came to unusual behaviour. 

Stiles blanched when he saw the body Jason was looking at. Donovan’s.

“I was told how Donovan died. It all matched up, except how it was delivered. There wasn’t enough remorse in his voice, in his actions, for a claim for self-defense.” Of course Jason would know. “So the story was true, it just wasn’t Theo.”

Stiles swallowed. “Yes, but I couldn’t tell anyone.”

“I would’ve believed it was self-defense.” But was it really self-defense? Maybe Scott was right, he could’ve chosen differently. 

“I’m not sure it was.” In hindsight, there were so many other ways he could’ve gotten away. Converged the energy of his body to his leg, stolen energy from Donovan, used his abilities? Anything, but he chose to kill Donovan. He had wanted to kill Donovan. “I wanted-I wanted to kill him.”

“Wanting isn’t the same as doing. Out of everyone, I know that the best.”

“A judge wouldn’t agree.”   
“The judge can go fuck itself.” Despite the severity of the conversation Stiles’ lips twitched. “It was self-defense Stiles. You reacted under pressure and in pain, mind clouded. If there was any evidence of the country I’d destroy it. Hell, the Red Hood would claim the death.” Stiles opened his mouth to argue but Jason didn’t give him the opening. “I would burn the fucking Sheriff’s Station down. I hate that place anyways. Beige should be banned.”

As if to enunciate his point, that it was self-defense not the color issue, Jason pushed Donovan’s body back into the morgue locker. Stiles helped, not making eye contact with his older brother. For a few minutes he worried his bottom lip. Unsure of how exactly how to phrase what he wanted, needed, to say.

“Will the… will the guilt ever go away?” Stiles asked.

The answer came in the heavy sigh Jason let escape from his lips. It came in the hand on his shoulder, just resting there.

“No, it won’t. I would say you get used it it, but I don’t ever want you to.” The, not like me, went unsaid. “It’s just something you’re gonna have to deal with. Saving a life will dull the guilt, for a time.”

Jason lifted Stiles’ chin up with a finger, making eye contact. Stiles found it hard to look away. “The real conflict is from your head.” Jason tapped Stiles’ temple with his finger. “And your heart.” The hand moved from his temple to resting against his heart. “Your head knows the only crime you committed was surviving, but your heart thinks it was murder. I guess you’ve got to get your heart to catch up with your head.” Jason’s hand moved away.

“I feel more than guilt. I lost something.” Stiles was painfully aware of what it was. He was terrified to see his aura now. “I lost something and I can’t get it back. “

“You’ll never get all of it back again,” Jason agreed softly, “But you can get some of it back by forgiving yourself. You can start, by forgiving Scott and the others.”

Jason pulled him closer, hugging him tightly. Stiles returned it before standing back and crossing his arms. 

“You need to get back to bed.”

After a bit of arguing, minor pushing and shoving (mostly on Jason’s part), and some dodging they made it back to the hospital room. It took even more arguing and veiled threats to get Jason resting on the hospital bed. Then, when Stiles deemed it safe, he left the hospital room and went to the vending machine. 

Some EMT’s rolled a gurney past him. The man on the gurney clearly having suffered from a supernatural attack. Eyes narrowing Stiles grabbed his snack and returned to Jason’s hospital room.

“Can I use your computer? Thanks.” Stiles grabbed it without waiting for an answer and sat on the chair.

Dick, who had come with the other heroes while Stiles was getting a snack, raised an eyebrow at him from his position at Jason’s side. Cassie was at the end of the bed, fiddling with the sleeve of her sweater. Then there were Jaime and Bart, Jaime on the only other chair of the room with Bart tapping his foot beside him.

“I was hoping you wouldn’t find out about that,” Jason groaned.

“Find out about what?” Jaime demanded, Bart and Cassie looking over at Jason before flicking their eyes to Stiles.   
“This doesn’t make sense,” Stiles groaned, replaying the surveillance video.

“Something’s missing from the video, I know.” Jason didn’t even look at him.

“What?” the other three teenagers demanded.

“There was a supernatural attack.”

The group of teenagers returned home, without any of the adults, once Dick kicked them out. They were all crowded down in the basement, their version of the cave, with the surveillance video playing on the screen. Occasionally they would rewind it, just to make sure they didn’t miss anything.

“We’re gonna need help,” Jaime muttered, looking over the video, “Khaji says nothing was tampered with. Bart, cariño, you got anything to tell us?”

“We need Scott’s help,” Bart replied, stuffing another chip in his mouth. 

“Why?” Cassie demanded.

“Scott and Derek probably but mostly Scott.”

“I’m assuming Scott figured it out the first time then,” Stiles sighed, “Alright. Let’s go.”

Once they got to Scott’s house, which was only half an hour after they left the hospital, Bart insisted that Stiles go in alone. There was no apparent reason for this, despite whatever Bart knew from the future. This also meant that there was very little arguing from the rest of the group.

Scott was in his bathroom, cleaning the wound on his stomach. Blood still seeped out of it and Stiles was reminded of the time when Scott held back his healing abilities. Back then Scott still had the support of the rest of the pack. Now, it seemed there was no one there for him. At least Stiles still had the other teen heroes and Jason. Scott, it seemed, had no one.

“It’s not healing.” Stiles couldn’t help but let those words escape.

“Sometimes it takes longer,” Scott replied, turning partially. 

“I-we need your help.” We. Plural. As in more than just Stiles. It was clear that Scott could tell.

“Where are they?” Scott demanded.

“In the car, waiting. You gonna help or not?”

“You want my help?”   
“Bart suggested it.” Stiles wasn’t sure why he said that. Immediately Scott seemed to deflate a little. This just made Stiles feel awful. 

“Right…”

“Besides, another set of eyes might help.”

It didn’t help much, but it seemed to lit Scott’s eyes up just that bit more. The two sat together on the bed, Stiles pulling up the video. Already Stiles had caught something that he hadn’t noticed before. Maybe it was due to his sudden hyperawareness of everything or maybe it was the reason that Bart told him to come in alone. Whatever it was, Scott seemed to have caught it too.

“No one else had gone in,” Scott whispered softly.

“Except Deputy Clark and the tech,” Stiles agreed.

“There’s another entrance.” the two surmised together.

With this information, Stiles and Scott made their way outside. In the backseat Jaime and Bart were arguing over something, Stiles wasn’t sure he wanted to know, with Cassie looking amused. As they got in the car Cassie slipped into the back, pushing Bart into the middle seat. In retaliation Bart tugged on a piece of her blonde hair before sinking low in the seat when Jaime flicked his ear.

“There’s another entrance,” Stiles explained.

“Okay, how’d you get that?” Cassie asked, leaning forward in her seat.

“Only the technician and Deputy Clark entered through the front entrance.”

“But wouldn’t the police have found another entrance when they searched the place, hermano?” Jaime demanded. “Or Jason?”

“Not necessarily.” Stiles’ grip on the steering wheel tightened, before he slid them partially down so that his fingertips stretched across the stiff leather. “It could be too heavy for a normal human to move, blocked by machinery, or even overlooked in the search.”

Everyone went silent as they entered the parking lot of Telecom building. A beat later, the group exited the car and entered through the front door. Jaime scanned the building as Bart did a quick once through. Once the building was deemed clear the rest of the group entered hesitantly. Every movement echoed throughout the empty building. It didn’t help that they were all tense.

“Stiles, over here,” Scott called out, standing by a piece of heavy machinery.

“Yeah?” Stiles asked, walking over with the other three trailing behind him.

“Think this could be the other way in?”

On the ground was a metal grate, big enough for a grown adult to fit through. Only issue, it was covered by a piece of heavy machinery. But, considering what they briefly saw in the video, it was entirely possible that the  _ thing _ could get through it no issue. 

“Definitely. Can you move it?” Stiles asked.

Here, Scott looked a bit embarrassed. Then he knelt down and struggled ( _ struggled _ ) to lift the piece of machinery. Even Cassie cringed behind him, moving forward. As gently as she possibly could she moved Scott out of the way, squatting down and grabbing it. Without breaking a sweat she lifted it up, moving it out of the way. A gust of wind and the grate was open and Bart down in the hole.

“Bart, cariño!” Jaime exclaimed, jumping into the hole after him. “Slow down!”

With a shrug, Cassie also leapt down into the hole. Stiles followed. The last to come down was Scott. Then Stiles pulled a flashlight out of his pocket, ignoring the slight teasing from Cassie, flicking it on. Yes, he could make his hand glow but that used energy that would be better used in a fight later on. Not that he was expecting a fight, but better safe than sorry. Right?

“Mercury,” Bart whispered, kneeling down to the floor.

“There’s more ahead,” Jaime agreed, gesturing forward.

The silver mercury glinted in the light, Stiles moving out of the way. As if sensing what Stiles was thinking, Jaime armoured up and Bart quickly put on his goggles. Cassie took off her sweater, already wearing the rest of her superhero costume. Stiles put on his red hoodie and put on his mask. Unlike Cassie, his costume wasn’t underneath his clothing. Unlike Jaime, his costume wasn’t something that could easily be summoned. Like Bart, he didn’t wear his costume twenty four seven. At least he always carried his mask and belt on him, as well as his whip. Otherwise, he’d be at a severe disadvantage.

“Are you guys expecting a fight?” Scott asked.

At the same time Stiles noticed words above a puddle of mercury. “Damnatio Memoriae.”

“What?”

“Damnatio Memoriae. Condemnation of memory.”

“Hold up that light, I’m gonna take a picture.”

Someone was sneaking up behind him and, at the last moment, Stiles moved to the side and twisted their arm. The loss of light made Scott turn, at the same time as Cassie knocking on the nerve on the back of Tracy’s neck. Fangs appeared as Tracy growled, falling to the ground. Bart zipped out of the way of a wave of electricity, Jaime taking off into the air completely armoured up. Stiles could practically taste the electricity as he moved away, his own version sparking at his fingertips. 

Scott’s eyes turned red, fangs peeking out from his teeth as he attacked Josh. The Chimera shot another wave of electricity at him at the same time as Tracy, who had gotten up, went to attack Cassie. It seemed that Bart had already gauged the situation and grabbed Tracy mid attack, setting her right in front of Josh. Their attacks hit each other instead and they went down. Stiles watched Jaime aim the sonic cannon down the tunnel, setting it off. Corey, the last chimera it seemed, appeared covering his ears. 

“Stand down,” Theo said, entering the tunnel. “You aren’t ready to take on an alpha, much less heroes.” Theo practically spat heroes. “Werewolves can smell fear, Blue Beetle can scan for other beings.”

“He has fangs,” Corey defended, still looking absolutely terrified. “Blue Beetle is an  _ alien _ .”

“They’re alive,” Cassie whispered, unable to get over that.

Everyone was frozen, including Stiles. While it was known that people could be brought back, Jason an attestment to that, they hadn’t thought it would happen in  _ Beacon Hills _ . Then again, Peter came back. So did Derek. Maybe they shouldn’t be surprised. But, Stiles couldn’t help but think, what about Donovan? Would he be coming back?

“Got some new friends. I don’t take rejection well.” Theo gave a small, criminally insane, smile.

No one moved as Corey and Tracy grabbed Josh, pulling him away from them and towards Theo. What could they do, this wasn’t a fight they wanted. All they wanted to do was deal with the  _ thing _ and be done with it. There was no need to fight here. The formerly dead chimeras carried Josh out of sight. However, Theo stayed behind. 

Again, no one moved when Theo viciously attacked the words. Effectively destroying any evidence of them. Somehow Stiles couldn’t help but psychoanalyze Theo. He wasn’t sure how to feel about the results. Theo almost reminded him of Jason… almost. Actually, more than he wanted to admit.

Theo took a deep, steadying, breath. This reminded Stiles even more of Jason. “I’m on your side Scott. We both want the creature gone. We’re gonna go back to the school and pretend to be normal teenagers. But, at night, we’re fighting for our lives. That creature, it’s not a chimera.”   
“There’s a kid underneath!” Scott argued.

“Not anymore.”

Then Theo disappeared into the tunnel after his chimeras. It was fairly too dramatic for Stiles taste. Hissing softly Stiles collapsed onto the ground, checking his side. At some point he had gotten hit by something and damn it hurt. Immediately Jaime was by his side, as the eldest it was kinda his job, and checked his side. There was a burn there, from Josh’s electricity. His brow furrowed in concern.

“How?” Jaime muttered, tilting his head to the side as he listened to the chimera. “But…”

“It wasn’t right,” Stiles sighed, leaning back as he took deep breaths. “The chimera’s electricity wasn’t exactly energy. It was.. I can’t even explain it.”

“Is that why you dodged instead of absorbing it?” Bart asked, suddenly by his side as well.

“Yeah.”

“Damnatio Memoriae. What does that mean?” Scott demanded.

Stiles sighed. “I told you. Condemnation of memory. My guess, they’re not creating a new creature. They’re resurrecting an old one.”

“Mierda.” Jaime cussed.

“Exactly.”

The others were sitting around him now, guessing that they weren’t going to move anytime soon. Completely silent, Scott leaned forward and pressed his fingers into the dust on the ground. They all watched as his finger began to trace the inner circle of the pack symbol. While they still considered the Hale symbol to be one of their symbols, they agreed that it would change since they were no longer, singularly, the Hale pack.

“If Theo has his own pack, we need to bring ours back together,” Scott said.

“Kira is battling a homicidal fox spirit, Derek isn’t talking to you, Lydia is in Eichen House, Liam tried to kill you, Jason is still recovering from nearly dying  _ again _ , and Dick isn’t speaking to either of us out of his misguided attempt to stay neutral.” Stiles took a deep breath at the end of his sentence before looking at Jaime. “Did I get them all?”

“Think so, hermano.”

“Then we’ll bring them in, one by one,” Scott replied, leaning back on the balls of his feet and waiting for Stiles and the others to finish the circle.

With a soft sigh, Stiles does so. The other three help in the process by connecting the curved lines together. Then they let Scott bring Stiles to his feet.

“I still hate your tattoo.”

**_*********BATWOLF********_ **

On the way to New Mexico, alone with Scott and Derek (who was mostly there to make sure that Scott didn’t upset Stiles), Stiles pulled into a gas station. After a quick glare at Scott, Derek entered the gas station for snacks and more anti-freeze (despite the fact it was closed). This left Scott and Stiles alone at the gas pump. Somehow Stiles felt that this was Derek’s attempt at getting the two friends to be friends again. 

Nervously, Stiles began to explain Donovan’s death. “There’s a pin. There’s one little pin attached to the scaffolding.” Stiles couldn’t decide if it was better or worse that Scott was being quiet. “He was trying to pull me down.”

As Stiles paused to regain his confidence, Scott seemed to come to a conclusion. “He was trying to kill you.”   
“Yeah… So then I pulled the pin and all these metal braces came down and one of them just went right through him.”

“Why didn’t you think you could tell me?”

“It was just the way you were looking at me that night.You know, you were standing there with a wrench in your hand. You were looking at me like I just bashed your head in with it. You know, like I’d broken your sacred rule and that’s it. There’s no going back.”

“I know the difference.”   
“What?” Stiles finally looked at Scott, hating the pity in his eyes.

“I know what self-defense is.”

Thankfully Derek was back with snacks, a piece of beef jerky in his mouth. The conversation dropped and they made their way down the road again. At some point Scott ended up sleeping in the back, Derek in the passenger seat beside him. They rode in a comfortable silence.

“Have you been here before?” Stiles eventually broke it.

“What, Shiprock?”

“Yeah.”

“No, heard about it.”

“Really?”   
“Believe it or not, I’m not actually all-knowing about the supernatural. Laura was the one with all the training to know it all.”

“She never taught you?”   
“Never thought she needed too.”

Silently, Stiles reached over and squeezed Derek’s hand. He squeezed it right back. Once again the silence overtook the car. Then Shiprock came into view and Derek woke Scott. It was almost time. Stiles accelerated. Once they reached Shiprock they stopped the Jeep and got out. Scott continued the conversation from the gas station.

“I don’t know why I believed him.” Derek subtly squeezed Stiles’ hand in comfort when Stiles suddenly tensed at the words. It was almost like Scott was talking about what was bothering him. “I don’t know why we didn’t just keep talking that night. Five more minutes and we would have realized that there were two different stories. We would’ve filled in all the blanks. We should’ve just kept talking.”

“He knew we wouldn’t.” Stiles forced out. 

“I didn’t want it to happen like this.”   
“Like what?”   
“I knew, sooner or later, one of us was going to get a little too much blood on our hands. I half thought it was gonna be Derek.” Derek growled at Scott.

“Well, keep talking like that and he will,” Stiles joked half-heartedly.

“Or even Jason.” Stiles kept silent. “I just always thought, if it were to happen, it should be me. I’m the one constantly putting you guys in danger, risking your lives, for people you don’t even know. It should’ve been me.”

Stiles rested a hand on Scott’s shoulder, squeezing gently. “I think you forget that I was doing this long before Beacon Hills. Only a few hours until sunrise.”

“Look, Kira,” Derek breathed, pointing towards the base of the mountain. There, in the distance, where flashes of light and noise were coming from. Without prompting everyone got back to the jeep and peeled towards the source. As they drove it began to get lighter and Stiles floored the gas pedal. They had to get there soon. As they got there they realized that they were cutting it close. Especially since it seemed like there was a stand off.

“Get in!” Stiles shouted, the jeep skidding to a stop right behind Noshiko and Kira. 

Kira listened, crawling into the back with Scott. The Skinwalkers threw a spear at the tire, but it was sliced in half by Noshiko. She also climbed into the car. Stiles floored the gas and the jeep peeled away. Derek cleared his throat when Scott and Kira began to get a bit handsy in their kissing.

“I love you,” Kira gasped breathlessly.

“Yeah, yeah. Please no sex in Roscoe. I don’t think he could handle it,” Stiles begged.

“You named your jeep?” Derek demanded.

“Shut up.”

It seemed to take a shorter amount to get back to Beacon Hills then it was to get to Shiprock. Scott immediately passed out on the couch, Kira collapsing into an armchair as Stiles dramatically sat on a random chair. Derek loomed by the wall. Liam and Mason arrived, Kira waking Scott the second they walked in. The rest of the pack, minus the adults (excluding Derek from that group), entered the room at the same time.

“Corey told us that Theo is looking for a blind alpha,” Liam informed them.   
“Deucalion,” Stiles and Derek chorused, at the same time Scott seemed to come to the same conclusion.

**_*******BATWOLF********_ **

In his Shadow Fox gear, Stiles peeled down the road on his motorcycle. Above him Jaime flew, Cassie flying above the police cars in front of them. On the ground, Bart ran a little behind Stiles. This was in case he needed to save Stiles in the event of the Beast changing tactics before Stiles could react. Highly unlikely, but still likely enough that Stiles put this safety measure into place. Then there was Scott, in the jeep with Dick, behind Bart. Derek was in his Camaro, waiting to get called in as backup. This was Stiles choice, largely influenced by his own personal feelings.

The sirens from the police cars wailed. While Stiles couldn’t see what was going on, he could hear it in his helmet. Unless an emergency, the other teen heroes weren’t to say anything on top of the police scanner. All of them were listening to the radio, basing their actions off of what they heard.

_ ~Unit 5 heading northwest on Crescent. Reporting an incredibly large something~  _ Deputy Clark informed.

A quick glance to the sky, a nod from Jaime, and Stiles looked back at the road. Jaime changed direction towards where Unit 5 was driving. Stiles gritted his teeth and urged the motorcycle faster. Right now he was staying close behind the Sheriff car, which was where Jason was. God, why did Jason have to be a cop? Oh yeah, some messed up B trying to prove that Jason could follow the law. Didn’t he realize that wouldn’t work?

_ ~Unit 9 to dispatch. I think I’ve got eyes on the same thing. It’s some kind of rabid animal~ _ _   
_ _ ~Unit 5 to 9. Trust me, that’s no animal.~ _

Stiles didn’t even need to look up, seeing a flash of blonde in the sky as Cassie also changed direction towards Unit 9. Blowing out into his helmet, which had different screens up on the sides. A few were just showing the radio waves from the police scanner, others were things that applied to the Beast and information they had on it and the Dread Doctors. Which was not a lot. 

_ ~Unit 6 to dispatch~  _ Deputy Strauss brought Stiles’ attention back to the conversation on the scanner.  _ ~We have a situation down here involving multiple casualties~ _

_ Shit _ , Stiles mentally cussed, this was bad. 

_ ~Copy. Medics on the way. Do you have a perp in sight Unit 6?~ _

Stiles mind was going a hundred miles an hour. A map appeared in his helmet, tracking the positions of all the units and the superheroes. His eyes flicked throughout the map, even as he continued to steer the motorcycle. Bart was by his side suddenly, eyes wide as he looked over at Stiles.

_ ~Negative. Looks like a 1091-E, Animal Attack.~ _

_ ~10-4. Can you say what kind of animal?~ _

There was no way he could stay quiet. Civilians needed to be kept safe. Even if they were law enforcement. A quick gesture to Bart, a nod in reply, and Stiles sped up. The speedster took off, leaving Stiles in the dust. 

_ ~All units, this is Shadow Fox. Stay back. Do not engage. I repeat. Do not engage~ _

For a few moments there was silence. Neither confirmation nor argument coming through. God, Stiles hoped this would work.

_ ~Copy that Shadow Fox~  _ That was Jason.  _ ~All unit alert. Wait for backup. Repeat. No one goes near this thing~ _

_ ~Unit 5 reporting a sighting off Hill Road southbound~ _

Another mark on the virtual map.

_ ~Unit 9. I’ve got it turning off Oak Ridge, southbound off Beachwood.~ _

_ ~All units. This is Dispatch. We’ve got a 911 call with an additional sighting on Mitcham~ _

In front of him Jason’s car sped up. Stiles revved the bike and chased after him. The markings on his virtual map suggested a pattern, Stiles cursing under his breath when he realized where the Beast was heading. Once again he broke the radio silence order and began to speak.

_ ~Sheriff~ _

_ ~What is it Shadow Fox?~ _

_ ~He’s headed for Beacon Hills Memorial Hospital. Team, reconvene there~ _

_ ~Copy that~ _

_ ~Unit 5. Clark, I need eyes on Parrish~  _ Jason called out, a few seconds after there was only silence on the radio.

_ ~All units. We have a 911 emergency call reporting a man on fire running into Beacon Memorial~ _

_ ~Clark disregard~ _

At least Parrish was on his way there. Stiles urged the bike faster before skidding to a stop outside of Beacon Memorial. Seconds later Scott and Dick stopped besides him, Cassie and Jaime landing on the ground. Last to appear was Bart, grinning widely when he stopped next to them. The group pushed open the doors and entered. A second later, Jason barged through after them. 

“Growls, fourth floor,” Scott said, looking up.

“Come on,” Stiles urged the others, running up the stairs and his whip lighting up with energy. 

The others followed slowly, Bart practically vibrating at the need to run. It was silent as they made their way up. The hallways were burnt and charred, a few flames still burning. Scott went to move forward, getting impatient, but Cassie pulled him back and away. It was a good thing too. As where Scott would have been, a burning man flew through and landed against the wall. The flames flickered out, the embers in his eyes fading and eventually dying out.

He seemed dazed.

“Parrish!” Jason growled, “Get up.”

Stiles slid away, leaving Jason and Dick with the young deputy. The other teens followed him. In blood, there were the footprints. They weren’t human. But, as they followed the markings, they shifted until they were normal footprints. Eventually, the tracks ended.

“Lift the print,” Stiles ordered Bart, “We might be able to figure out who the Beast is based off this.”

Back at home, Stiles spun in circles in the swivel chair. Every possible plan ran through his hand. On his bed, Jason and Dick sat staring at him. Eventually he stopped the swivel chair and stared at the two.

“Lydia.”

“What about her?” Dick asked.

“What’re we doing to get her out of Eichen House?”   
“I’m doing everything I can. But it’s up to her mother,” Jason sighed.

“Can’t you, I don’t know, pressure her into signing the release papers? Or get a court order?”

“Trepanation is still considered a medical procedure. A court order would take months and a judge wouldn’t even grant it.” Dick ran a hand down his face after the explanation. 

“There’s nothing we can do.” Jason then smirked a little. “Legally.”

That was all Stiles needed to know. Jumping to his feet he hugged Jason and Dick together tightly, before darting off. He shouted at the other teens that lived with him, getting into the Jeep and starting the engine. Bart appeared first, Jaime and Cassie running in after.

“SHOTGUN!” Bart exclaimed, leaping into the passenger seat.

An hour or so later, the rest of the pack gathered in the McCall house. Other than the obvious can’t have the Sheriff or boyfriend of the Sheriff listen in to their plan, there wasn’t any other reason to have it there. Stiles, Scott, and Jaime all explained the plan.

“Kira, you’re gonna drain the power from the system. This will cause a brownout and all the electrical locks will reboot. This’ll allow the card I stole to work.” Stiles showed the card in mention to the group.

“But I don’t know how to do that,” Kira argued.

“I’ll teach you.” Derek pushed himself off the wall and stepped more towards the group. 

“You’ll have time to practice,” Scott soothed.

“During the reboot all alarms will be off.” Jaime continued explaining the plan, obviously ignoring the scarab as he spoke. Occasionally his hand would twitch, clenching into a fist before relaxing again. “Scott and Liam will bring Stiles and Bart to the gate of the closed unit. As werewolves they won’t be able to pass, but both Stiles and Bart will be able to.”

“How does the Scarab feel about this plan?” Cassie asked, arms crossed.

“If all goes well, they’ll just think it was a simple reboot from a brownout,” Scott answered before Jaime could.

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Scott was obviously irritated, eyes twitching. “If we fail, Lydia will die and take innocents with her.”

“Jaime?”   
There was no answer and Cassie blew a piece of hair out of her face. 

Inside a body bag, Stiles decided he never wanted to do this again. His hands clenched tightly and he wondered briefly if the plan was working. Everything was muffled inside the bag, voices filtering through with no distinguishable words. If this failed, Stiles wasn’t sure what they would do. There were flaws in this plan but there was no way else he could do it. 

They were moving, someone picked him up and set him on a mortuary table. A door closed and Stiles waited for a few more minutes, reaching out to feel with his abilities. Only him and the others. Gratefully he unzipped the bag and sat up with a gasping breath.

“I am never doing that again,” Stiles announced.

“Agreed.”

“We have fifteen minutes.” Stiles slipped on his mask, having not worn it while he was in the body bag. Bart vibrated anxiously by his side and Stiles gently rested his hand on Bart’s shoulder. Hopefully Jaime and Derek, who were the only two that didn’t have a specified part, would be able to keep any unwanted persons from coming downstairs after them. That was their job.

“No guards, let’s go,” Liam urged.

The four slipped out of the morgue. They snuck their way downstairs, stopping at the sight of orderlies. Four minutes until Kira was to cause the brownout. Anxiety made Stiles’ fingers twitch, energy surging beneath his skin. It was only his training that helped him stay calm. 

“I can take them,” Liam practically begged, claws out. 

“No, no unnecessary violence. We can’t draw attention to ourselves. If anyone was going to take them out it’d be Impulse,” Stiles replied.

As if on cue, something happened.

“You!” There was a patient in the glass cell next to them. Stiles cursed softly, they couldn’t deal with this. “You took my doctor away! No medication!! All because you took Doctor Fenris!!”

The orderlies up ahead were peering towards them. Anxiously Stiles looked back at Scott, still holding back Bart. Thankfully Scott seemed to understand what needed to be done and partially shifted. This scared the patient into silence, slinking back into the cell. Sighing in relief Stiles looked back around the corner, watching as the orderlies went into a different hall.

“Let’s go.”

They rush down the hall, stopping at a closed gate. There was no keycard swipe to unlock the door. Without hesitation Bart vibrates straight through the gate, leaving Stiles on the other side. He sighed softly, resting his hand on the locked portion of the gate. Summoning some of the energy bubbling beneath his skin, Stiles’ hand began to warm. 

“Like Iron Fist,” Liam muttered.

Stiles rolled his eyes, pushing the gate open before jogging up beside Bart. Without another word Bart took off, rushing in and out of different cells before stopping in front of one. Stiles rushed after him and entered the cell. On the bed Lydia lay, pale and with a hole on the side of her head. There were straps, undone thankfully, attached to the bed. The implications of that… Stiles didn’t want to think about it.

“Lydia,” Stiles whispered, rushing to her side and checking the wound on her head. 

Blearily, eyes unfocused, Lydia stared at him. It was like she was seeing him, but not him. If that made any sense. 

“You’ll die. If you stay here… you’ll die,” Lydia whispered. “Valack is coming. He’ll kill you. Leave.”

“Not happening. I can take him. Let’s get you out of here.” Stiles slowly lifted her up.

“Fox!” Bart was by his side suddenly. “Doctor incoming.”

“Get Lydia out of here.”

“What? I’m not strong! I’m not leaving you. That’s moded!”

“Impulse! Now! I’m not asking!”

The tone of his voice seemed to scare Bart. While this made Stiles feel awful, he knew it had to be done. All the fight drained out of the younger and he hiked Lydia onto his back, visibly straining. Then he took off down the hall, skidding to a stop in front of the gate. Stiles unfurled his whip and hid, not wanting to get into a confrontation.

Valack entered the room, visibly growing angry when he saw Lydia was no longer in the room. Then he strode out and Stiles let out a sigh of relief. Everything then went to hell. Bart was still outside the gate, but no longer had Lydia. Instead, Theo had her. But orderlies were attacking Theo, Bart in direct confrontation with both Josh and Tracy. Valack was also attacking Theo and honestly Stiles was trying to pick apart who to attack first.

Then Parrish appeared, burning through the gate like it was nothing. Josh switched from attacking Bart to attacking Parrish. This allowed Bart to go attack Tracy full on, but he managed to get sliced by the tail and went down. Stiles’ whip charged with energy and he attacked Tracy as well. 

She hissed at him when the whip tagged her side, leaping into the air and coming down on him. Stiles dodged, pushing off the wall and flipping over Tracy while she was crouched. With a grace that only Dick could challenge, Stiles landed and threw a fox-tail at her. It grazed her ear and snipped off some hair as she dodged, imbedding into the wall. Before their attack could continue Stiles caught sight of Valack leaving with Lydia. In a rush to end the fight Stiles threw down a smoke bomb and knocked Tracy down with the butt of his whip. She collapsed.

Stiles ran after Valack, screaming at Bart. Yet Bart was still recovering from the Kanima Venom, vibrating slowly as though to burn it off. Right as Stiles went to take Lydia, Corey was thrown into him. The two rammed into the wall, sliding down. Stiles pushed him off and darted for the door, but it was locked. 

Lydia was on the other side.

**_**********BATWOLF*********_ **

Again, Stiles wasn’t sure what to think of Theo. The way he acted, it was a lot like Jason. Playing both sides, willing to cross the line no one else was. Even if he was an absolute dick with a lowercase d about it. It reminded him so much of Jason, but yet Stiles couldn’t feel sympathetic. This one person had caused so many issues for the pack, tore them apart as easily as one would demolish a spiderweb. It was admirable, admittedly, but Stiles had been on the receiving end.

“You’ve got to trust me Stiles.” Not to mention Theo also seemed to have mind reading abilities.

“Trust the man that killed his sister at nine years old, not happening.” Stiles was only with Theo for the sheer fact that Bart was out for the count which left him as the best way to find Lydia.

“I was naive. The Dread Doctors tricked me. Said my sister wanted me to kill her. That she wanted me to have her heart. I didn’t know what was happening until she was dying in the cold river.”

“You pushed her in. You enjoyed killing her.”

Theo was silent. Maybe he was going to punch Stiles, but instead Theo just sighed heavily. What was his play? There was obviously something else Theo wanted, rather than to help Stiles. Before either of them could continue talking there was a loud scream. It echoed and bounced against the walls, coming from everywhere. There was no way to pinpoint it. 

Without another word Stiles broke a pipe. This seemed to confuse Theo but Stiles didn’t take the time to explain. Instead wrapping his whip around Theo’s arm and using it to pull Theo over.

“Listen. Through the pipes. It’ll make it easier to hear,” Stiles explained, when it seemed Theo wasn’t doing anything.

“You could’ve explained that earlier.”

Then they were off again. Running through the tunnels as Theo listened. Eventually Theo caught her scent again and they sped up, eventually skidding to a stop outside of a laboratory. The doors were locked and they banged on them. For some reason, even Stiles energy wasn’t working. Was there something that could keep his abilities back, besides an inhibitor collar. He couldn’t even summon energy to his hands, it was… absent.

There was a scream, then blood on the windows of the door. Stiles flinched but he could feel his energy again. Before he could blast the doors open, the energy restless underneath his skin, Theo broke the door handle. The two rushed in, Stiles immediately going to Lydia’s side.

“It’s too dangerous,” Lydia whispered weakly.

“That’s kinda what I do everyday,” Stiles replied, lifting Lydia up, “Let me save you.”

“Run!” 

The door was thrown open again and Stiles moved away out of instinct, energy making his hands glow. But then it died down when Parrish, on fire, wrapped himself around Lydia and the flames became a column. Despite this Lydia’s scream still shattered the glass in the windows and Stiles was thrown back with the others. The flames died down and Stiles saw Parrish carrying Lydia.

“Let’s go.”

They reached the gate, Theo no longer with them. Bart was leaning heavily against Liam, looking dazed from the scream and still pale from the Kanima venom. The gate was still locked from the lockdown. Suddenly Stiles was unsure, both Derek and Jaime had obviously been taken down from Theo’s pack (which concerned him). That meant that Mason had no one to help him with undoing the lockdown.

“Is Mason going to pull through?” Scott, apparently, was also concerned.

“Do you doubt it?” Liam asked. “Mason will pull through. Would you doubt it if it was Stiles?”   
“Stiles has training.”   
As though to prove the faith Liam had in his friend, he pushed the door open. It sparked a little but there was no resistance. Suddenly Stiles felt very stupid, of course Mason had it. They escaped up through a grate and ran towards the jeep. Thankfully the rest of the group, the pack, were there. Without prompting Jaime took Bart, checking him over carefully before taking off into the air with him. Cassie followed. Everyone else clambered in, Stiles in the back with Lydia. Derek got in his own car with Malia and Kira, Liam getting in the front seat of the Jeep.

“Come on, come on,” Scott muttered. 

A little scream escaped Lydia’s lips, Stiles holding back a cry of pain. The mirrors all shattered and Stiles felt blood starting to leak out of his ear. All hearing was gone from that ear as well and Stiles forced himself not to freak out. Otherwise it would scare Lydia and the others. 

“You’re gonna make it,” Stiles soothed, trying to ignore how weird his voice sounded without the hearing in that ear.

“You’re not.” Lydia’s eyes were trained on the blood trailing down his face.

Scott peeled out as fast as physically possible. It didn’t take long at all to get to the animal clinic. Thankfully there was no more screaming from Lydia, Stiles’ head hurt enough from the first scream. He also hoped that the deafness in that ear wouldn’t be permanent.

Immediately once they got inside, Deaton got to work on Lydia. Derek pulled him aside, tugging him into a separate room that happened to be Deaton’s office. One of Derek’s hands touched the injured ear, drawing pain. Stiles let out a little sigh of relief and rested his forehead against Derek’s chest.

“That feels good,” Stiles whispered.

“You were in a lot of pain,” Derek commented, “How does your ear feel? Can you hear out of it?”

“Better now. It was mostly my head. Uh, not really. I’ll let Dick check it out later.”

“You better.”

There was another scream and the sounds of bodies hitting the ground. After a few seconds of silence Stiles entered with Derek behind him, breathing out a sigh of relief when he saw Lydia and her mother embracing. Whatever had happened to Lydia was fixed. Hopefully permanently.

Now they just had to deal with everything else.

Yay.

**_************BATWOLF***********_ **

The Surgeon was in the animal clinic. Somehow still alive after being attacked by the Beast, attacked by  _ Mason _ , and was now here. In the animal clinic. On the table. But most importantly,  _ ALIVE _ . If only by Scott’s insistence, even though Derek had agreed it was probably best to just let him die. That, in Scott’s mind, was as good as murder. Stiles didn’t agree.

“He needs to stay alive,” Scott reminded them, a good two seconds after the last reminder.

“I’m not sure he’s technically alive at all,” Deaton said.

“We need to interrogate him,” Liam and Jaime chorused.

“Torture? We don’t use it enough.” Jason knew plenty of ways to get information, lucky for Stiles he had learned a few of them.

Something happened, something that it seemed only Stiles and Deaton hadn’t heard. All the werewolves, and Jaime, stiffened. Seconds later, the Surgeon sat up and let out an electromagnetic pulse. Everyone was thrown back, Stiles overloaded with a bunch of energy all at once. Someone screamed, him?, and they all collapsed. Another electromagnetic pulse, this time a bit more controlled, and the door was slammed shut. A power cable broke and electrified all the metal that was resting against the door.

“Stiles, Stiles.” Derek was above him, gently holding his face. It hurt, all the energy inside him. All he could see was energy. The energy of others, Derek’s rich purple taking up most of his sight. “Focus on me Stiles. You’re okay. It’ll be okay. Just let it out.” His body was burning with all the energy inside him. Where could he release it? In the power outlets? That would overload the transmitter and… 

“Derek!”

“I know Scott, I can hear him.” Derek’s energy moved, Derek moving as well. Stiles slowly let the energy out of him, in spurts. Trying not to overload the transmitter. Slowly the pain in his body died down and he let out a sigh of relief. Everything returned to normal. “There you are, up you go.”

With Derek’s help, Stiles got to his feet. The sight of the electricity on the metal daunted him. There was no escape. Not until Stiles’ abilities felt less frayed. At least this gave them time to make a plan.

“Mason still has the DNA of the twin he absorbed, right?” Liam asked, tapping his fingers against the metal examination table. “Which means he could still be inside Sebastien.”

Under the Sea started playing in Stiles’ head. 

“Life is energy, energy can’t simply disappear. They might’ve broken supernatural rules, but some rules just won’t break.” For once Deaton was actually helpful instead of vague. “Mason must exist inside of Sebastien. Perhaps as a spark of energy or memory, but he’ll still exist.”

“Mason said that it wasn’t his name, right before he turned into the Beast. There’s some old lore on werewolves about calling out the real name of a werewolf will bring them back to their human form,” Stiles said, “Maybe Lydia could do it?”

Thankfully someone else broke them out of the animal clinic (Cassie is amazing) with an update about Lydia being injured. The group rushed to the hospital, Stiles entering her room first as the rest of the pack gives them updates. Knowing Jason, Dick would need to pull him out of the guilt he was wallowing in. 

“Did you find a solution?” Lydia can barely speak and Stiles grasped her hand tightly. 

“You’re the solution,” Stiles admitted.

Then Melissa entered the room with a syringe. Ever since he lived in Gotham, Stiles had an irrational fear of needles. Sue him, a lot of the villains like putting things in flu shots and the like. That was enough of a reason to be scared of needles and shots, right? 

“I’m gonna go…” Stiles muttered, getting held back by Scott and Liam.

“No, you’re going to hold her hand,” Melissa replied, “I might loose my job for this.”

“I might faint.”

Instead it was Liam that fainted. Who knew? Maybe it was the smell. Or maybe he had a fear of needles too. At least Stiles hadn’t fainted.

Now outside of the hospital, Stiles was handed a paper bag. Without needing to open it Stiles could already feel the power. The energy hummed against his own, greeting it. It felt familiar, in a way, and Stiles was unsure why.

“What is this?” Stiles asked.

“It needs to go to Derek. It’s Plan A.”   
“Which never works.”

“Plan A never works.”

“This one will.”

Thankfully, Stiles already knew what was happening. Derek was waiting for the Desert Wolf with Braeden at the loft. Stiles also knew why Scott had given this to him. It was his way of keeping him safe from the Beast. While annoying, Stiles wasn’t going to argue. Even if he was probably Plan B for getting Mason back.

It didn’t take long to get to the Loft. Though, Stiles realized too late, he hadn’t been sneaky enough. After opening the door he had immediately gotten a gun trained on his from the Desert Wolf. A second later and he had been tackled by Derek, with an angry growl to go with it, bullets in the door where he had been standing. Then Derek was off of him and attacking the Desert Wolf head on, disarming her and throwing her into the glass coffee table.

It was a shame too, Stiles liked that coffee table. 

Recovering quickly, Stiles got to his feet. While not in this fight long enough to properly gauge her abilities, Stiles still went to attack her. It seemed that he had underestimated her, as she easily threw him aside. His luck was against him. A glass shard went straight through his chest and Stiles cried out in pain, energy shooting out of him. 

Derek and the Desert Wolf fight around him. Pain clouded Stiles’ mind but he could feel the tug of the energy of the talons in the paper bag. Managing enough strength Stiles tossed the glass jar that held the talons at Derek. Thankfully Derek saw them, allowing the glass jar to break before grabbing the talons. He rolled out of the way of the Desert Wolf’s claws and surfaced with the talons over his claws. Then he stabbed them through her gut, red eyes brightening as the Desert Wolf’s blue eyes dimmed. 

“Can someone get this giant shard of glass out of my chest?” Stiles begged, gently touching it and flinching.

The next day Stiles tossed a ball into the air, catching it in his hand. Instead of a glass shard in his chest, he now had stitches and bandages. All in all a good trade, even if he hated needles. Dick had been overprotective, Jason congratulating him on a new shard, and the other heroes completely overbearing by walking around him on eggshells.

“You gotta feel pretty good for saving your friends lives and the population of Beacon Hills,” Jason commented, after watching him for a few minutes.

“Well, yeah. But it’s not like I do that everyday anyways. That’s a normal day in Gotham.” Stiles felt a little homesick for Gotham. This mission had been dragging on for what felt like forever. 

“Can be a hell of a drug.”

Stiles didn’t know how to respond, instead staring at Jason silently. Neither one spoke. At least until Jason sighed softly and entered the room, sitting on the edge of Stiles’ bed. The wound on his chest hurt, but Stiles stayed silent. After a few more seconds of silence, Stiles eventually broke it.

“Theo’s gone, he’s in an eternal hell. No one deserves what Kira did to him,” Stiles sighed.

“You weren’t there to stop it. Why’s it bothering you?” Jason asked.

“I dunno…” Stiles wrapped his arms around his legs, resting his chin against his knees. “He just…” Jason didn’t say anything. That was almost worse than him prodding him for an answer. “He reminded me of you.”

Jason’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “He did?”   
“Living in the gray, thriving in it. Attacking anyone trying to help him, probably out of a misguided attempt at pushing everyone away because he didn’t think he deserved it after being part of the wrong crowd.”   
“Putting it that way…”

“He didn’t deserve what Kira did to him. I wouldn’t even wish that on the Joker.”

“Probably only drive the clown even further insane.”

Stiles swallowed, mouth suddenly very dry. Then Jason rested his hand on his good shoulder and squeezed before standing up. There was nothing Stiles could do and he hated it, hated it. With a soft sigh he wrapped his arms tighter around his legs, watching Jason leave. There was nothing to be done. Just wait for the next thing to go down.

If only he knew that there was nothing he would be able to do then too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: Two things. One, all of season 6 will be in Jaime’s POV due to the lack of Stiles in both A and B (which I am disappointed about). Two, if you’re gonna bash my story or me or ask questions please don’t do it under guest. At least be willing to be an adult about it and either allow me to explain or be passive aggressive. It’s just cowardly to hide behind an anonymous face. Also, IF YOU DON’T LIKE MY STORY JUST DON’T READ IT!! I’M NOT FORCING YOU TO READ IT!
> 
> Review Request Here ~ Literally, don’t read it if you don’t like it. I’m not looking for your approval.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: I got nothing to say right now. If I find anything to say it’ll be at the end of this chapter so check there.
> 
> Disclaimer Here -- I’m bulletproof, nothing to lose, fire away, fire away, ricochet, you take your aim, fire away, fire away. You shoot me down, but I won't fall, I am titanium
> 
> 3rd Person POV

 

“I’m boooooooooooooored. Bart was sprawled across the couch, head on Jaime’s lap.

Crime had been down since the Beast. Either everyone was too scared or there was something else going on. In all honesty Jaime wasn’t one hundred percent positive why they were still in Beacon Hills. Maybe it was just to finish their Senior year of Highschool. All their credits should transfer to another high school, with some help from the Bats of course. There was no reason to stay. Unless Batman felt there was something going to happen. If so, he hadn’t divulged the information to their group.

“We know Bart.” Cassie had long since given up on pushing Bart’s feet off her lap.

“You wouldn’t happen to know anything about why we’re still here, would you cariño?” Jaime asked.

“No, why?”

_ [The Impulse is lying, Jaime Reyes] _

“You sure?” Jaime prodded gently. The question was directed at both Khaji Da as well as Bart.

_ [Positive] _

Luckily for Bart, who looked ready to bolt instead of respond, their phones all pinged at the same time. A simple text message, sent from Jason. The way it was written made it clear he was pissed at someone, Scott was always a good assumption. Immediately Bart lept to his feet with a whoop.

“Finally! Somethingishappening!” Bart grabbed Jaime’s hands and dragged him to his feet.

“Should we really be happy that something is happening? It’s usually bad,” Cassie reminded them, yet she also got to her feet.

The group split up once they got to the Sheriff’s Station, Jaime and Bart heading to the impound lot with Lydia. Stiles and Cassie went inside with Scott to talk with the kid. Dick was inside with Jason, Derek away from Beacon Hills to visit Cora. It was probably one of the first times since Derek and Stiles (officially) started dating that they’ve been separated. 

Already, Lydia was inspecting the cracked windshield. On his back the Scarab was suspiciously silent. This irked Jaime some, but he didn’t say anything. Gently pushing Bart forward, Jaime walked up to Lydia. Her fingers trailed the broken glass gently, keeping care not to cut her fingers.

“Anything?” Jaime asked.

Instead of answering, Lydia got into the car and sat in the driver’s seat. Her eyes looked around the front seat, fingers trailing along the steering wheel. Even Bart was silent, knowing he’d probably get snapped at if he said anything. Then she leaned back in the seat with a sigh, looking at the rearview mirror.

“My eyeshadow is the perfect shade,” Lydia murmured to herself.

_ [Eliminate her, Lydia Martin is nothing but a nuisance to our objective] _

“What?! No! We are not doing that!” Jaime couldn’t help but respond.

“I’m not sensing anything.” Lydia was amazing, completely ignoring Jaime’s outburst. Even if she gave him a curious look.

This was also the time where the group from inside came out into the impound lot. All of them stood around, no one knowing who to start. It was weird, just having one Alpha around. Not that it helped that Scott hadn’t had a lot of practice as being Alpha, usually him and Derek bounced ideas off of each other before deciding the best course of action.

“There’s no lingering scent from the car, in fact I can only smell Alex,” Scott admitted.

_ [There is no evidence that anyone besides the human child was in the car.] _

Jaime’s brow furrowed, “What do you mean, ese?”

While Scott explained, in detail, what he meant. Jaime focused on Khaji. After all, the question was posed to Khaji rather than Scott. Not that Scott knew that, or that anyone else could hear Khaji besides. Maybe Jaime should start elaborating on who exactly he was talking to. Nah, it was more fun to watch them think he was talking to them. It made every conversation more interesting anyways.

_ [There is no evidence of the human parents. A scan of the car shows no signs of a parent. Perhaps the human child is lying] _

“Scott.” Jaime cut Scott off mid sentence. “Can you smell Alex’s padres at all? Are you sure you’re not mixing them up with the others?”   
“Of course I can tell the difference.” Scott seemed offended. 

“Then can you even smell them?”

“What are you getting at?” Stiles asked, crossing his arms and looking a lot like his uncle.

“Where they even there? Do they exist?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know what I saw. His parents, they were there but then they weren’t.” Scott sighed softly and ran a hand through his hair.

“Erased,” Bart mumbled, fiddling with his sweater. It was a flash sweater, he looked cute in it.

“Whatever it is they’re not dead, I would be able to sense it,” Lydia added.

“And it would definitely leave a scent,” Scott agreed.

With a soft sigh Jaime shook his head, gently tapping on Bart’s arm and gesturing that they should go. Regardless if it was a supernatural thing or not there wasn’t enough (or any) evidence here for them to deal with. For now they would leave it and allow the pieces to come together naturally. Then Scott continued speaking, causing Bart and Jaime to freeze.

“I don’t know what happened.”   
“Really? Cause I timed you Scott. You were in Alex’s head for four minutes.” Stiles crossed his arms, looking unamused.

“Werewolf connections aren’t an exact science. Alex is a kid, maybe he’s too freaked out to remember.”

_ [Something is not right Jaime Reyes] _

“Not much we can do about that, ese,” Jaime replied, starting to walk away again.

Bart was quick to catch up to him.

As Bart finished his yearbook photo, something he had been very excited about, the rest of the pack stood to the side. While Jaime couldn’t understand Bart’s excitement, he wasn’t going to shut him down. Even having been around for a few years, there was still plenty of things that excited Bart. Maybe it had something to do with the apocalyptic future Bart was from.

“You’re not signed up for your picture,” Cassie spoke up, looking at Stiles.

“Yeah I am,” Stiles replied, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a piece of paper.

It was blank, Stiles staring at it like it had betrayed him. Inside his head Khaji snickered. Suddenly Bart was with them, still grinning widely from his photo. No one paid him much attention. All too focused on Stiles’ blank piece of paper.

“Maybe you’re sublimating the stress of graduating by avoiding key milestones,” Scott suggested.

_ [Scott McCall is smarter than he seems, be wary] _

“What?” That was more aimed at Khaji Da then Scott, but Scott seemed to take it as questioning his abilities.

“I’m working on a paper for Psych.”

“The deputy searched the car. There was no exit hole or bullet to be found. The address that Alex gave is an abandoned house. We should check it out,” Stiles added, ignoring the earlier comments.

Uncomfortably, Jaime shifted. He had a test in the next class he couldn’t miss. Well, he could miss it. But then he would have to take it at another time and get an absence in that class. Not to mention, his Mama wanted him to do better in school this year. Apparently she hadn’t been impressed by the C’s on his report card. 

“Lo siento, but I have a test I gotta take. Maybe after school?” Jaime could hear the sheepishness in his voice.

_ [Something is not right] _

“Anyone else?” Stiles asked.

“I can’t miss anymore classes. I would’ve been kicked out if it weren’t for Ms. Martin,” Scott replied.

“Not interested,” Lydia said.

Rapidly, barely seeable, Bart shook his head. There was no excuse given, no reason why he couldn’t go. Just a simple shake of the head. Maybe it was a future thing. Or…

_ [The Impulse seems scared] _

Jaime didn’t bother replying to Khaji Da.

“I’m gonna have to back out. I’ve got enough homework,” Cassie sounded a little stressed. Then again, she was taking more classes than most of them combined.

“I’ll just take Liam,” Stiles replied.

It took Jaime a few minutes to remember that Derek wasn’t in Beacon Hills. Otherwise he would’ve made a fool of himself. The group peered around to find Liam, only to see him with Hayden and Mason. Jaime remembered Hayden getting bitten to make her an actual. It was Scott’s idea to bite her, but Derek didn’t argue. Their pack was steadily growing.

“Or not…” Stiles sighed heavily.

“Just wait till after school,” Cassie suggested.

“I’ll go with you after school,” Scott agreed.

Before Stiles could argue, probably to go by himself, the girl that took Bart’s picture walked up to them. Her name was Sydney if Jaime remembered right. Not that he had ever talked to her, but he was fairly certain she was the Yearbook Editor this year. 

“Can I take a picture of you guys?” Sydney asked.

They all agreed, Stiles getting suckered into it by Lydia. The group repositioned themselves on the table they were sitting on. Stiles sat between Scott and Lydia, Cassie on the other side of Lydia on the table itself. Then Jaime sat on the bench at Cassie’s feet, Bart on his lap. Bart was closer to Lydia than Cassie, Jaime’s arm around his body to keep him steady. They all grinned and Sydney took the picture, promising to give them a copy.

Once Sydney was gone, Stiles pulled out a shard of glass from his pocket. Maybe it was one last attempt to get them to go with him to the abandoned house. Whatever it was, the shard of glass put Jaime on edge. While he didn’t particularly know why, maybe it was because Stiles was carrying a  _ shard of glass _ in his  _ pocket _ , this also seemed to make Khaji Da paranoid as well. 

“Explain to me why this is blue,” Stiles practically growled.

_ [There is a strange energy on that piece of glass, Jaime Reyes. Approach with caution]  _

“What is it?” Jaime demanded, looking closer.

Scott took the shard of glass from Stiles, Jaime getting a little anxious at the sight. Even Bart was stiff, staring at Stiles as though he was truly seeing him for the first time. Stiles seemed oblivious to the looks. As Scott turned the shard in his hand, it reflected blue.

Later, after school, Jaime and Bart decide to head straight home. Cassie, Stiles, and Scott could surely handle an abandoned house without their help. The two lay on their stomachs on the bed in Bart’s room. Bart’s room was fairly bare, only a couple of pictures scattered around the room in wooden frames. Only things of sentimental value were in his room. Jason and Dick had tried multiple times to get Bart to decorate a bit more, each ending in Bart locking himself in somewhere to ignore them. Eventually they had given up.

_ [The Impulse seems anxious] _

“I know,” Jaime growled.

“Know what?” Bart rolled onto his back, head tilted to the side.

“Something’s bugging you, cariño.”

Suspiciously, Bart went silent. It was like he was struggling with himself. As though he wasn’t sure if he should say something or not. Jaime almost didn’t want to know if this bugged Bart. But at the same time, he knew that if he could help he’d want too. Eventually Bart seemed to come to a conclusion, sitting up and picking at the palm of his hand anxiously.

“Ifyouknewsomethingwasgonnahappen, somethingveryverybad, andyoucouldpossiblydosomethingtochange it… would you?” Bart asked, finally slowing down at the end of his sentence.

It took Jaime a few seconds to fully decode the sentence. “Bart… what’s going to happen?”

“We’re going to forget…”

“Forget what? Bart?!”

Bart shivered, checking the time and gripping his head. An angry moan escaped his lips. On his back, Khaji Da seemed to buzz anxiously. Something was happening right now, something that they were going to forget? But Jaime couldn’t seem to do anything. He sat up, staring at Bart worriedly. While he didn’t want to prod Bart, he knew he had to.

“Bart. What’s going on?!” Jaime demanded.

“I’m sorry!” Bart exclaimed, flinching away and suddenly he was crouched in the corner.

“Bart?!!”

“We gotta go to the school. I’msorry, I’msorry, I’msorryI’msorryI’msorry,” Bart tugged at his hair.

Apparently they were making too much noise, as Dick was at the door looking concerned and slightly relieved. Jaime didn’t want to know. Bart took off by Dick, sliding underneath his arm and going out the front door. By the time Dick and Jaime’s mind caught up to what happened, Bart was down the street.

“Where’s he going?” Dick asked.

“The school. Something’s happening,” Jaime ducked underneath Dick’s arm. 

Dick drove him to the school, Jaime jumping out of the car the second it was slow enough. Bart was already outside, looking confused and walking in circles. In relief Jaime didn’t hit Bart, instead just tugging him to his side with the intent clear in his movements. Cassie came jogging out of the library, brows furrowed.

“Why are we here?” Cassie asked.

Bart was mouthing something over and over again under his breath. It was too quiet for Khaji to pick up, the speed quicker than Jaime would even bother decoding. Occasionally Bart would flinch, brows furrowing as he stumbled over something.

“What do you mean? You were studying with Lydia and…” Jaime could feel it, on the tip of his tongue, but it was just out of reach.

“No, why are we in Beacon Hills? Our mission was over last semester remember? We were supposed to go home,” Cassie repeated, “Nightwing was supposed to take us back.”

“That was if we wanted to return to home. I’m staying back, easier to finish here than to switch transcripts, hermana,” Jaime answered.

“I’m going back, I miss my home.”

“No!” Bart suddenly exclaimed. “You can’t go!!”

“Why not?”

“The missions not over.”   
“Fairly certain it is, cariño,” Jaime replied.

Before they could answer, someone suddenly barged into their group. He was breathing heavily. It felt like Jaime knew him from somewhere. But for the life of him he could not remember where. Maybe from a mission. It was possible. Khaji Da was suspiciously silent.

“Please, please tell me you remember,” the man begged.

“I’m sorry, but who are you?” Cassie demanded.

“Fuck, this isn’t good.” The man seemed paranoid, checking over his shoulder and looking around.

“Can we help?” Jaime offered.

“Stiles!” Bart exclaimed.

The man, Stiles?, seemed slightly relieved. There was a little grin, crooked and oh so familiar, on his face now. In a motion that Jaime felt threatening, but Khaji Da did nothing, Stiles rested his hands on Bart’s shoulder and looked him right in the eye. The only reason Jaime hadn’t attacked was because Bart didn’t look concerned. Yet Jaime was on edge, glancing over at Cassie too make sure she was on the same page as him. Attack if anything sketchy happens.

“What’s going on?” Stiles interrogated.

“They’re going to forget. Everyone. Lydia, me, Derek, everyone. Running isn’t going to do anything.” Bart was saying this rapid fire, but still slow enough for them to understand. “Find Peter. Find anyone supernatural that you can. They’re the only ones that can get out. You can’t. Send a message, send your keys. Send whatever you can. We’ll get you out, as soon as we can. I promise.” Bart looked ready to cry. Jaime wanted to punch something.

“What is going on?!” Cassie demanded.

“Bart, I’ll be back. Don’t forget me, okay? You can’t forget me. Remember me, promise me. Remember.”

“Go. Stiles go!” Bart ordered. The man, Stiles, listened. He took off, looking like death was chasing him. Bart practically collapsed to the ground. “This is so moded…”

“Bart, what is going on?”

Bart’s eyes cleared, like he had no clue what was happening. Suddenly Jaime couldn’t remember why he was angry. Fists unclenching and relaxing partially. Occasionally Bart’s eyes flickered between clear and upset. 

“Blue, why are we at school?” Bart asked.

“You forgot something, remember?”

“Oh yeah… it’s not important. Let’s go back.”

**_***********BATWOLF*********_ **

For some reason, none of the teen heroes went to school. It was like something was missing. There were holes in everything. Why they cared about Beacon Hills in the first place, how they knew about the supernatural, and why this house? Why not a different safe house? This wasn’t even a safe house. And why they were alone in the house until Junior year. Nothing made sense.

“I’m sure there’s a rational explanation,” Cassie muttered. They were all in her room, reluctantly helping her pack. “Just ask Nightwing if you want to know. But leave me out of it. I’m rejoining the team, you guys can figure it out yourself.”

“We’re missing things Cassie. We need your help if we’re going to figure it out.” Jaime stared at a picture. There was an awkward gap in the picture between himself and Cassie. With enough of a room for another person, Jaime wondered why there wasn’t anyone else in the picture.

Bart hadn’t said anything this entire time. Leaving it between Cassie and Jaime. It was like everything Bart knew was getting questioned, his head between his knees and muttering softly on the floor. Cassie easily stepped over him, grabbing another drawer full of clothes.

“I’m done, Jaime.” Cassie stuffed her clothes in the suitcase. “Don’t you think this mission has been going on a bit too long?”

“You don’t hear Kaldur complaining Cassie,” Jaime pointed out, “At least we don’t have to pretend to be evil and make tough choices for around three years.”

“No, instead we have to go to high school. I’m not Kaldur, I’m going home. You can’t stop me, either.”

Cassie turned away from him, opening her closet and pulling out the clothes in there. Already her room was stripped down, the last few things being her clothes and bedding. With a soft sigh, Jaime sat on one of the chairs. It felt like there was someone missing from this scenario, something that Jaime couldn’t place.

_ [There is no changing the Wonder Girl’s mind Jaime Reyes] _

“Lo sé,” Jaime muttered, repeating it in English tiredly, “I know.”

“Good.” Cassie zipped up her suitcase. Then she played with her star earrings. “Why do I feel like I’m forgetting something?”

“You have your toiletries?” Cassie nodded, Jaime shrugging. “Then I don’t know.”

“Well, it’s not like I can’t just get it another time. I’ll… I’ll see you guys eventually.”

“You ready?” They looked over, seeing the person that had taken care of them for the past two years, Sheriff Stilinski.

“Yeah, all ready to go,” Cassie confirmed.

Something didn’t feel right, but Jaime was willing to overlook it. Everything felt weird now and days. It was probably due to Cassie leaving. Their trio, was done to two. Not to mention, Bart seemed to be having more and more nightmares that he couldn’t remember when he woke up. It could explain why he was so anxious recently.

“Alright. Nightwing is ready to go when you are,” Sheriff Stilinski said. Then he stepped into the room, resting a hand on Cassie’s shoulder. Her head lowered, blonde hair falling forward before her eyes rose to stare at him. “You may not be my daughter Cassie, but you’re the closest thing to one. I’m going to miss you.”

“I’m going to miss you too Sheriff,” Cassie whispered, hugging him tightly before pulling away and wiping her eyes angrily.

“I’ll start bringing your stuff down.”

The Sheriff left with two boxes and a suitcase. For a few minutes they stood, well Cassie stood, in silence. Then Jaime got up, reaching one hand out to Cassie. She inhaled sharply, grabbing Jaime’s hand before pulling him close into a hug. For a second Jaime was stiff, before relaxing and hugging back.

“I’m gonna miss you Wonder Girl,” Jaime told her, “Buena suerte a ti.”

“Good luck to you too Jaime.” Cassie pulled away with a small smile. “Take care of Bart.”

“Always.”

Cassie turned her back to him, kneeling down in front of Bart and hugging him tightly. Bart seemed startled but hugged back. No one said anything, Cassie picking up all she could carry (which was a lot) before heading downstairs. There wasn’t anything left to grab, so they stood in her room awkwardly. A car started, then drove away. Cassie inside.

“You okay?” Jaime asked Bart.

“Crash.”

“Alright.”

“Boys, Lydia called,” Sheriff Stilinski announced from downstairs, “They want you to head to Deaton’s. I’ve gotta get back to work, dinner is whatever you can find.”

Once they arrived, Deaton lead them to the back. Both Scott and Lydia were already there. Lydia sat at a desk, the shard of glass dangling in front of her. But she wasn’t focusing on it, instead she and Scott were talking. 

“Have you guys noticed it?” Scott cut off their conversation.

“Someone’s missing, in our lives,” Bart agreed, talking normally but twitching rapidly.

Deaton lit the light from beneath the shard of glass. This caused the glass to turn the blue color from earlier. It swung partially, Deaton turning the lights off around them. Soon it was only the light beneath the glass lit. Lydia began to focus on the light, going into a trance. Then she began to scribble on the paper furiously.

“What we’re suggesting here is that the Wild Hunt isn’t taking people, it’s erasing them from reality,” Scott hissed.

“Which means even Bart wouldn’t remember, mierda.” Jaime glanced over at Bart.

“Bart might still remember,” Deaton argued, Bart still twitching and tapping his fingers on his knee. It was clear he wasn’t listening or paying attention to them, to caught up in whatever he was thinking about, “But he’d only be able to remember bits and pieces. Little sections that he might chalk up to being hallucinations or bad dreams.”

“He’s not remembering his nightmares.”

“Or he’s not telling you.”   
There was a slight tearing sound. They looked over at Lydia, seeing her writing get more frantic. Without a word they all jumped into action, Deaton turning off the light and both Scott and Jaime pulling Lydia back. Immediately she snapped out of the trance, the pen slipping from her fingers. Easily Bart caught it, putting it on the table.

“What’d I write?” She asked, eyes focusing slowly. 

“Uh,” Jaime looked at the page.

Written over and over again was the word mischief. His brows furrowed, not understanding what that meant. Besides, that didn’t seem like. As far as he knew… but he didn’t know anything. Then he looked at the bigger picture. The words seemed to spell out another word.

“Stiles?” the word seemed familiar. By his side Bart inhaled sharply, turning pale.

“What the hell is a Stiles?” Lydia demanded.

**_********BATWOLF*******_ ** **_  
_ ** After the research went nowhere, they returned back to the house with Lydia and Scott. Bart immediately raided the fridge, ignoring the Sheriff’s call not too eat too much. Then they congregated in the living room, sitting cross legged around the table. All their research was laid out, notes and pictures. Nothing concrete. A few snacks were placed down on the table as well.

“There’s nothing about a Stiles. Nothing that we need at least,” Lydia sighed.

“Did you just say Stiles?” Sheriff Stilinski asked. “What do you want to know about him?”   
“You know Stiles?” Scott demanded.

“It’s an old Stilinski nickname. My Dad was called Stiles.”

Bart’s brow furrowed, looking confused as he stuffed another chip into his mouth. At least he wasn’t the only one who seemed confused. The group all looked at each other before looking back at the Sheriff. 

“Do you think we could meet him?” Jaime asked.

“No.” 

“What? Why not?!” Scott exclaimed.

“He won’t be able to help you. Leave it.”

Obviously they weren’t going to leave it. They just weren’t going to let the Sheriff know. With a soft sigh the group went quiet, waiting for the Sheriff too leave for work before they snuck out. 

_ [I do not believe this Elias Stilinski is who you are looking for Jaime Reyes] _

“Shut up. This is the best clue we’ve got,” Jaime replied.

_ [You’re betraying Sheriff Noah Stilinski’s trust] _

“I said shut up.”

“I’m not saying anything,” Bart looked over at Jaime.

“El escarabajo, I’m talking to the scarab Bart. Not you cariño, promise.”

At Goodwater Assisted Living Facility, Bart quickly took out the nurse, tying her up and hiding her in the closet. No one said anything, despite Bart doing it without any orders before hand. Something was… wrong with Bart. Jaime quickly thought about what Deaton said, about Bart remembering. Maybe Jaime should talk with Bart.

“You okay?” Jaime whispered.

“I’ve told you, I’m crash,” Bart replied.

“Okay…”

The group wandered around the facility, until they found Elias Stilinski in the day room. Bart relaxed next to him. Silently they gripped each other's hands, not exactly in comfort but more to just reaffirm that the other was there. 

“Mr. Stilinski? Stiles? Do you know who I am? I’m Lydia.” The red headed banshee moved closer.   
“I don’t know you, are you my nurse?” Mr. Stilinski asked.

“Do you know any of us?” Scott questioned.

“You’re my son.”

Scott recoiled, looking slightly disgusted and ultimately surprised at the answer. The group all looked at each other, Bart the one that decided to ask the question they were all thinking. For once, Bart actually looked his young age; picking at his sleeve and gnawing on his lower lip. Jaime just hoped that Bart wouldn’t cause himself to bleed.

“Mr. Stilinski, what year is it?” Bart asked softly.

“1976, a week before my son’s birthday. Why?” Mr. Stilinski questioned.

“He has dementia,” Lydia deduced softly.

Then Lydia sat across from Mr. Stilinski, fingers steepled as she studied him. Immediately Jaime was wary. What exactly was Lydia planning? Eventually she leaned back, dropping her arms to his side. They were just lucky that Mr. Stilinski hadn’t started creating a ruckus. Otherwise another nurse might find them.

“Your son, he’s the Sheriff of Beacon Hills,” Lydia tried to explain. “It’s 2016, not 1976.”   
“No, Noah can’t be the Sheriff,” Mr. Stilinski argued.

This went on for a bit, Mr. Stilinski getting more and more agitated. The sun was beginning to set outside the window. As the room darkened around them it became clear that Mr. Stilinski was growing worse mentally. This seemed to scare Bart, as he began to hide partially behind Jaime. It didn’t help that Jaime was starting to get anxious. 

“LEAVE!! LEAVE!!! I’LL REPORT YOU!” Elias Stilinski began to scream.

“Calm him down,” Bart begged, flinching when Mr. Stilinski grew louder in his shouting.

_ [Mister Elias Stilinski is sundowning. It’s a term that you humans use when a patient loses his facilities after the sun sets] _

“Good to know, what do I do about it, ese?” Jaime asked. Bart didn’t answer this for once, perhaps because he didn’t believe it to be aimed at him.

_ [Focusing on a different task can help some patients calm] _

Thankfully Lydia had everything under control, quickly writing out math problems and having Mr. Stilinski solve them. Though his hand was shaky, Elias Stilinski managed to work on the problems. As he worked Jaime watched as the older man’s eyes cleared. It seemed that, for the first time since they were here, Mr. Stilinski was back in 2016 rather than 1976.

The man looked up at him, suddenly fully there, “My name is Mr. Stilinski, just who the hell do you think you are?!”

“Mr. Stilinski, do you know who we are?” Jaime spoke up, trying to keep calm.

“You’re Jaime Reyes, or Garcia as I’ve heard you go by. I’ve heard good things about you boy, Blue Beetle. Heard about the scarab on your back too, Khaji Da.” Jaime flushed as everyone looked at him. “The boy behind you is Bart Allen, or Johnson, a speedster. Your boyfriend, goes by Impulse to the populace. You’re Scott McCall. Never liked your Daddy boy, he couldn’t handle his liquor. Cheated on your mom plenty of times too. Lydia Martin, you look just like your mother. Natalie was pretty once too, also liked to pretend that she was the smartest person in the room.”

Before Mr. Stilinski could continue, the doors flew open. In came Sheriff Stilinski, the nurse Bart knocked out earlier beside him. Everyone froze, staring at the door. This was the angriest the Sheriff had ever seen. Angrier than Batman himself, which set Jaime on edge. They had screwed up, so badly. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to come here.

“Noah, it can’t be,” Mr. Stilinski seemed confused, “You’re dead.”

“Scarab?” Jaime whispered. Everyone seemed to freeze around them, Lydia blinking slowly as she stared at the Sheriff. Bart inhaled sharply.

_ [Mister Elias Stilinski is not lying Jaime Reyes]  _ It concerned Jaime just how confused Khaji seemed.  _ [Scanning one Sheriff Noah Stilinski now] _

“Out,” the Sheriff ordered. No one moved. “OUT! Scott! Lydia! Jaime! Bart! OUT!”

This shocked everyone into movement. They filed out, Jaime gently pushing Bart to the other side of him as he gave the Sheriff a wide berth. But then Mr. Stilinski spoke again, freezing Jaime in place. 

“DOES YOUR SON KNOW YOU’RE ALIVE NOAH? OR ARE YOU RUNNING FROM HIM TOO?”

“What?” Sheriff Stilinski asked. “What did you just say?”

But Elias Stilinski’s eyes had glazed over again, going back to 1976. He didn’t seem to remember what he had said, so Jaime pushed Bart forward. The last thing he heard was Mr. Stilinski asking about his medicine. 

At the Sheriff’s station, Jaime waited for Khaji Da to finally finish his scan. But the scarab wasn’t saying anything. That probably freaked Jaime out more than the knowledge of what the scan might reveal. Carajo, Jaime was going to be sick. 

“...They’re talking felony charges!! For one of you four attacking them!!” Natalie Martin screeched.

“Calm down Natalie, all is well. They dropped the charges, mostly due to the fact the nurse doesn’t know who attacked her.” Sheriff Stilinski looked right at a sheepish Bart. “You’re free to go.”

Bart ran off without another word, at the same time Ms. Martin informed Lydia that she was grounded for life. Hesitating for a few seconds, mostly to see if Khaji Da was done scanning, Jaime eventually left. Outside Bart grabbed him, dragging him out the door anxiously. They returned home without a word.

**_********BATWOLF********_ **

Around two or three in the morning, Jaime was woken by screaming. It immediately jolted him into action, tearing open his door and sprinting to Bart’s room. The youngest was entangled in his sheets, flailing and vibrating as he screamed. Armour covering his body, except his face, Jaime pulled Bart into his arms.

“Bart! ¡Cariño! ¡Despertar! ¡Está bien! Es sólo un sueño.” Jaime continued to murmur softly in Spanish. This seemed to comfort Bart, letting him wake with only a hint of panic.

“Did I wake you?” Bart murmured, awake now.

“No.”  _ [Liar] _

“Oh…”

“Wanna talk about it?”

“I don’t remember.”

_ [The Impulse is lying Jaime Reyes] _

Jaime sighed softly, thankful that the armour had retracted once Bart had calmed some. Otherwise this would get uncomfortable. Without a word Jaime slipped Bart over some, laying on the bed next to him. Briefly he wondered why Sheriff Stilinski hadn’t come to check on Bart, though he never seemed to when Bart had a nightmare. Then he decided not to dwell on it.

“What’re you doing?” Bart asked, but made no move to stop Jaime.

“You know the Scarab tells me when someone’s lying to me, right Bart? Besides, you’re still spooked. You don’t have to describe it in detail, just tell me,” Jaime whispered.

“It’s like… I’m reliving things. But someone else is there…” Bart picked at the sheet, not looking at Jaime. “It’s future and past. In the future he’s old, more just a legend. I never really met him except a few times. His kids, adopted since…, anyways I’m friends with like his kids and grandkids and stuff. But now, now I’m friends with him. But I can’t… when I wake up I can’t remember details. I can’t remember his kids, his grandkids, or even his face. It…” Bart eventually just seemed to give up explaining.

“You think it’s Stiles?” Jaime asked.

“But why do I remember?” Bart sounded and looked miserable.

_ [The Impulse is a temporal anomaly. In some scientists opinions, he should not be able to exist] _

“I don’t know, Khaji says it could be because you’re a temporal anomaly.” Jaime ran his fingers through Bart’s hair gently. Almost petting him.

A soft hum escaped Bart’s lips. They rested against each other, Bart digesting the words. It made sense, almost. But if that was the case, wouldn’t more people remember Stiles? Or maybe not, it could be solely a time travel thing. In that case most people wouldn’t. Jaime wasn’t certain.

They stayed this way until school. Exhausted Jaime brought an entire gallon of coffee to school, much to the amusement of Sheriff Stilinski and the relief of Bart. Honestly Jaime wouldn’t be surprised if Bart snuck a few naps in.

Lydia and Scott intercepted them at the end of the school day.

“Jake’s ID card and Gwen’s sister’s bracelet are relics. Things left behind from the person taken, proof that they existed,” Lydia said.

“Hola to you too Lydia.” Jaime rested his head on the table.

“The items left behind are proof that the Ghost Rider’s can’t get rid of everything,” Lydia continued as though Jaime hadn’t spoken. “Conservation of Mass within an isolated system remains constant.”

“The Ghost Riders have a weakness,” Scott commented.

“It’s proof that Stiles existed,” Bart whispered.

Lydia returned to the Stilinski house with them. It was here that the loss of Cassie hit them the hardest, the loss of whoever Stiles was. Here was also the most likely place for a relic of Stiles to be. If Cassie was here it’d be easier, but there wasn’t exactly anything they could do about it.

“Can I look for a relic here Sheriff? Of Stiles?” Lydia asked.

Sheriff Stilinski hesitated, “Just don’t ruin anything, okay?”

“Roger that.”

Without another word Lydia wandered off. Instead of following, Jaime and Bart sat together on the couch. This was more of a job for someone with supernatural abilities rather than two superheroes. If she needed their help she’d call. Besides, there was no need for them to search. They lived here, if she found something and needed them too follow it up later then they could do that.

“I’m sorry! I’ll just go.” Lydia’s voice came through the hallway, before she rushed past them. 

“What happened?” Jaime asked when Sheriff Stilinski entered the living room.

“She was tearing the wallpaper,” Sheriff Stilinski informed them, before leaving.

Jaime’s phone vibrated with a text notification.

**From Lydia:**

**Check behind the wallpaper, there’s something there. I can feel it.**

After a quick glance at Bart, who nodded and stood up, Jaime made his way to the hallway where Lydia was. 

_ [Scanning, there’s a room behind the wall] _

“What? Another room?” Jaime double-checked.

_ [Affirmative Jaime Reyes] _

“Bart, can you phase through? There’s a room behind the wall according to Khaji Da.”

Without even hesitating, Bart vibrated through the wall. There was silence on the other side. After a few moments of nothing happening Jaime grew anxious. Was Bart okay? What was going on? Without hesitation, Jaime moved forward and rested his hand against the wall.

“Bart? You okay in there? Bart, cariño, what’s going on?” Jaime asked.

Then Bart was suddenly in the hallway again. His cheeks were wet and he shook his head, gripping onto Jaime tightly. They stood like that, completely silent, until Bart eventually pulled away. There was nothing to be said.

**_********BATWOLF*******_ **

There was a jeep. Blue, old, and very familiar. It was right in view whenever Jaime looked out the window. Lydia suddenly got up when a tow truck went to pick it up, Jaime following with Bart. As the three left, Scott sprinted after them. While, logically, Jaime couldn’t figure out why he wanted to save the jeep. He knew subconsciously that he had too. There was no good reason to be given.

“Hey! HEY!” Lydia screamed, stopping in front of the tow truck driver. “What are you doing?!”

“The jeep’s abandoned, I’m doing my job,” the tow truck driver replied.

“It’s not abandoned,” Bart spoke up, “It’s mine.”

“Uhuh, where’s the keys?”

“I accidentally locked them inside, I’ve been trying to find my spare at home,” Bart replied, crossing his arms.

“Sorry kid. Nothing’s gonna stop me from towing the car. Step away.”

_ [Obliterate him] _

“No!” Jaime exclaimed.

Everyone froze and looked at him. While they all probably assumed Jaime was fighting with the tow truck driver, he was really shouting at the scarab. Why did it always insist on killing people. Like really, there were much more peaceful ways to do it.

“How much will it cost for you to drop the car?” Lydia demanded.

“A hundred and fifty dollars.”

_ [That man is despicable. Let me obliterate him Jaime Reyes] _

Jaime didn’t bother responding, instead digging into his pocket for cash. Eventually, between the four of them, they managed to scrounge up a hundred and fifty dollars. It was shocking just how little money they had on them.  The man took the money and left.

“What are we going to do now?” Bart asked.

“I don’t know,” Jaime admitted.

It was later in the day that they all met outside the Jeep. A high pitched noise was escaping the Jeep, coming from the police scanner inside. Without a word they all climbed inside, Scott’s nose wrinkling. The sound suddenly cut off.

“It smells like we’ve been in here before, but we haven’t,” Scott commented.

“We have, we just don’t remember,” Bart whispered.

“Are you guys really still on the Stiles thing?”

“The car got here somehow,” Lydia pointed out.

“Parrish checked the VIN, it’s not registered to anyone.”

In the front, Jaime began to search the glove compartment. There were a few weapon compartments that he somehow knew was in there, but he ignored them for the registration. Silently he showed it to the others.

“Stilinski household,” Jaime said, “Lydia, why don’t you go talk to them. Bart, Scott, and I will make sure no one takes the Jeep.”

That turned out to be a good thing, since Bart had to take apart the tow truck’s hook to make sure he couldn’t get the jeep. Hopefully Lydia was having better look with Sheriff Stilinski.

Lydia returned, without good news. As they spoke, quietly as though someone was listening in, something changed. They could feel the shift in the air. Then, there was a howl. Filled with pain, echoing through the air. Loud enough that everything seemed to shake.

“Did you hear that?” Scott suddenly asked.

“Yeah, it sounded like a cry of pain. A wolf’s howl,” Lydia agreed.

It was around then that Jaime realized that Bart was no longer by his side. Without a word the armour covered his body and Jaime took off into the air, following the faint remnants of his boyfriend. Eventually he landed, staring at the body on the ground. Charred and burnt, but somehow still alive. 

“Oh my god.” Lydia was there. “Peter?”

Peter? Memories flooded back. How could they have forgotten him. But it was like how they forgot Stiles. Stiles, who they still didn’t have memories of. But they knew he existed. They had faith that he existed. Somehow, somehow it was like Peter had never existed. Something that Jaime couldn’t fathom.

“There’s something in his hands,” Bart spoke up.

As though they were all thinking it, Scott knelt down and began to take his pain. Black veins spread up Scott’s arms. At some point, Peter’s hands opened. Bart immediately grabbed the keys, staring at them with wide-eyes. They had to be the keys to the jeep. 

Now they stood in front of the jeep. No one had the heart to take the keys from Bart, so he went and sat in the driver's seat. The rest of them sat throughout the car. After a few tries, the jeep turned over. The headlights turned on, illuminating the dark parking lot.

Around the same time, the radio in the jeep squeals to life. A voice came through, words barely recognizable. After a bit it becomes clearer, Stiles. A few memories pressed against his mind, filtering through the cracks. But none of it made sense. All he remembered was the week before Stiles disappeared. A few impressions of before then.

“Stiles?” Bart breathed through the radio, Jaime and the other two repeating it.

_ ~Guys, that you?~ _

“Yeah, yeah. It’s us.” Bart was talking the slowest of his life, almost like he was in shock.

_ ~Bart, what’s the last thing I told you?~ _

“You told me to remember you.”

There was silence on the other side. For a few minutes Jaime was scared that Stiles was no longer there. But the light of the radio was still on, it was still transmitting. That meant Stiles had to be there, right?

“Stiles, where are you?” Jaime demanded.

_ ~You can’t get here~ _

“What do you mean we can’t get here? Where are you?!” Scott shouted.

_ ~You can’t get here, I can’t get out. Not by myself at least. It’s not going to work, okay?~ _

For a few minutes no one said anything.

_ ~Is Derek okay? Jason? Dick? Cassie?~ _

“Derek’s looking for Kate. Cassie went home. What do you mean Jason and Dick?” Lydia asked. “Who are they?”

_ ~Good, don’t bring Derek into this. Who is Red Hood? Nightwing? They’re my brothers.~ _

“That doesn’t matter.” Both Jaime and Bart were quiet, somehow knowing that Stiles wouldn’t like the answer. Scott continued talking. “Stiles, what do we do?”   
_ ~Remember Canaan. You have to find Canaan~ _

Before anyone could say anything else, the radio cut out. Swallowing heavily, Jaime watched Bart replace the radio. How could the Red Hood, a villain if how Nightwing and the rest of the Bat’s talked about him, be Stiles’ brother. Why would Stiles even care about him? Does that mean Nightwing was Red Hood’s brother? What was going on?

**_*******BATWOLF******_ **

“Scott, we can’t tell the Sheriff,” Jaime whispered in his ear.

“He has a son Jaime.” Scott just wasn’t listening. “He deserves to know.”   
“A son he doesn’t remember,” Bart spoke up.

The three of them were in the living room of the Stilinski house. As of yet, the Sheriff wasn’t back home. However he would be here in about  _ [Fifteen minutes]  _ if what Khaji said was true. That meant Jaime only had  _ [Thirteen minutes]  _ to convince Scott to leave the matter alone. Easier said than done. 

“He still deserves to know. We can’t keep him having a son from him,” Scott argued.

“Scott, he never even asked about how his Dad was doing,” Jaime noted, “He asked after sus hermanos, about Derek, but didn’t even mention su padre. We should talk to Nightwing or Derek, or carajo even Batman!, before we make any major decisions.”

“This isn’t a major decision!”

“What isn’t a major decision?”

Everyone froze. No one, not even Scott, had heard Sheriff Stilinski entered. Like usual when Sheriff Stilinski was around, at least recently, Khaji Da went quiet. This always set Jaime on edge, what was Sheriff Stilinski?, and he looked over at Scott.

“We talked to Stiles, your son, through the police scanner last night,” Scott informed Sheriff Stilinski.

“It was probably a random signal cross,” The Sheriff blew him off.

Then Scott opened his hand. The keys for the jeep lay in his hand. Without hesitating, Scott set the keys in the Sheriff’s hand. If anything this would only make everything worse. It might cause the Sheriff to shut down on them. Jaime kinda wished that Derek was back in town. Maybe he’d be able to convince Scott that this wasn’t smart.

“Peter Hale brought these back, they’re a perfect match to your jeep Mr. Stilinski. Claudia’s old jeep,” Scott said.

“You believe something Peter Hale gave you?” The Sheriff sounded and looked disbelieving.

“Sheriff please, if you don’t believe Peter believe me.”

“I don’t have a son Scott. I would remember him.”

As Scott went to argue, the Sheriff pushed the keys back in Scott’s hand and walked away. It was, unsettling the way the Sheriff was acting. If anything he didn’t seem human, at all. Swallowing back the lump in his throat, Jaime looked back at Scott.

“I told you,” Jaime said.

“I don’t understand.” Scott looked down at the keys in his hands.

Jaime didn’t have a good answer.

It was a long car ride, Bart and Jaime in the back together with Lydia and Scott in the front. At some point Scott drifted off, however Jaime was far to paranoid to sleep. There were too many unanswered questions. However it seemed Bart had managed to calm his mind, fast asleep against Jaime. Hyperaware of their closeness, despite how often Bart snuck into his bed after waking up from a silent nightmare, Jaime couldn’t help but notice how long Bart’s hair was getting. They’d need to cut it eventually. Gently Jaime played with a piece.

“Wake up Bart,” Lydia ordered from the front, “We’re almost there.”

“You know he’ll just run ahead, right?” Jaime asked. 

There was no response, which Jaime took as a yes. 

“Hey Bart, wake up cariño.” Jaime shook him gently.

That was apparently enough to wake up a slumbering speedster. Hazel eyes flew open and Bart sat up, looking around. This all happened in the span of a few milliseconds, then Bart was gone. No explanation, no nothing. But when Jaime looked up, he understood why Bart was no longer in the car. 

“It’s a ghost town,” Lydia whispered, climbing out of the car.

Jaime followed, staring at the torn banner in front of him. It was faded, no color left. Just faint imprints of words. Newspapers littered the street and ground, weeds overpowering gardens. Windows broken in houses, some doors hanging ajar. Empty cars, ancient, were still parked in driveways. 

“Well, Stiles sent us here for a reason,” Scott decided.

Jaime quickly scanned the surrounding area for Bart. There was no sign of him. The trio walked the streets, Jaime allowing Khaji to put on the armour so they could scan. Eventually, on a residential street, the group stopped.

“I can’t hear any heartbeats, besides ours,” Scott announced.

“Khaji isn’t picking up anything, nada. Not even Bart. Which means he’s going too fast or…” Jaime didn’t finish his sentence.

“Why would Stiles send us here?” Scott wondered aloud.

A street life flickered to life. In response the armour, only covering his body up to his neck, shifted his right hand into a blade. Eyes scanning everything in that direction, Jaime froze at the sight of Bart standing in front of a sign. No movement except staring at the faded banner, partially fallen and torn.

“Bart?” Jaime asked, the armour retreating.

“This is the place I saw in the mirror,” Lydia breathed.

It seemed Bart hadn’t heard Jaime, so he moved closer. But then he was distracted, Scott picking up an old cell phone and a newspaper. Walking over to the picnic table, Jaime lifted up a random grocery bag. He pulled out a receipt, dated April 8, 1987. Brows furrowing, he set it back down and walked over towards Scott and Lydia. Bart was still by the banner. They all walked to the carousel, which started the second Scott stepped on it.

That’s when things got weird.

Bart moved. It was fast, but also in slow motion. As Bart ran, closer and closer to Jaime, the more he faded. Faded, not being entirely accurate. More like dissolved. Pieces of Bart, like fine grains of sand, blew off of his body. Skin, muscle, bone, hair all came off Bart. All that was left being his suit. 

Then it all shifted, his family stood before him. Looking exactly like they did the last time he saw them. Papi, dark receding hairline with a mustache just brushing his upper lip. However his dark eyes were sunken and dull, clothes torn and all too quiet to be his Papi. By his side was Mama, but not. Her dark hair, usually up in a ponytail, was down and thin. Clumps missing, skin gone where the clumps were. Blood streaming out of her eyes like tears. Worse of all was Milagro, su hermanita, standing in front of him. Dark eyes staring at him, mouth stretched wide in a grin worthy of the joker, neck torn out.

“Jaime,” Milagro tried to say, but it came out garbled. “You left us.” Blood squirted out of her neck, the muscles moving. Jaime couldn’t look away.

_ [Jaime Reyes, it’s not real] _

“Why’d you go Jaime?” Mama asked, blood coming out of her mouth when she opened it, “Why’d you leave us?”

“You killed us Jaime,” Papi spoke, one eye falling out. Bugs began to crawl out of the empty eye socket, covering Papi’s face. “You left us to die.”

_ [IT’S NOT REAL!] _

The armour covered Jaime’s face, a scream erupting from his lips as his hands rose. But whatever Khaji did worked, as the mask over his face seemed to keep him from seeing those horrible visions. Bart wasn’t there, neither was his family. Skin crawling, Jaime looked around him. No one else was there anymore.

_ [Your heart is racing Jaime Reyes] _

“Yeah,” Jaime swallowed again, trying to calm down, “Can you find the others, Khaji?”

_ [Scanning now] _

There was a burst of wind, Bart suddenly in front of him. His entire body was vibrating, cheeks wet, and eyes wide with fear. There was a few seconds of hesitation before Bart, quiet literally, tackled him in a hug. The two fell to the pavement. 

_ [Scott McCall and Lydia Martin are running after something] _

“Come on Bart,” Jaime sat up, rubbing the back of his head, “I know where Scott and Lydia are.”

“We should go,” Bart whispered.

“We can’t, not without Scott and Lydia.”

“Let’s just leave.”

“Bart, cariño. We can’t. Come on.”

It was with great hesitation that Bart allowed Jaime to lead him. The group met up in front of a house. This was the only house that seemed well kept. Fresh paint, well manicured lawn. It looked well lived in.

_ [I sense someone inside, Jaime Reyes, approach with caution] _

“Got it,” Jaime replied softly.

“Should we, go in?” Scott asked.

Lydia started inside hesitantly, Jaime and Bart following. Behind them Scott crept, calling out the second they entered the house. For a moment, there was no response. Then someone rounded the corner. Frizzy blonde hair, like she had been shocked with static electricity, offset cartoon wide blue eyes. 

“Carajo!” Jaime exclaimed, pushing a disgruntled Bart behind him.

“Visitors!” The lady, who was not right in the head, exclaimed happily. “Caleb will be so happy to see you! He doesn’t have anyone to play with anymore! Come in, come in! I’ll make you some lemonade!”

“That’s the lady I saw in the mirror,” Lydia whispered to them.

They’re all seated at a table, Jaime gripping Bart’s hand tightly beneath the table. This was more for his comfort then Bart’s. There was just something about this lady that irked him, made him uncomfortable. Not to mention the Lemonade, her mother’s recipe, had stuff floating in it. This didn’t seem to bother Bart, who downed it. 

“We’re looking for a friend, Stiles, you wouldn’t happen to know him?” Lydia asked.

“Not many people come through Canaan anymore,” Lenore, Jaime was fairly certain that was her name.

“How long ago was that?” Jaime asked.

“Oh, I don’t know. A while.”

Jaime pulled out the receipt, setting it on the table. Immediately Lenore seemed unsettled, staring at the receipt. Sharp blue eyes pinned Jaime, narrowing angrily. The table settings began to shake, though it seemed Lenore didn’t notice.

“You shouldn’t disturb things that don’t belong to you,” she said through clenched teeth.

“We need to know what happened,” Scott pressed.

“There was a picnic. People had been leaving Canaan for a while, the day of the picnic was the day the last of them left.”

“Everyone just left, they disappeared all at once?” Bart asked incredulously. 

“They  _ left _ .” Once again the table settings shook.

“Did they leave in a cloud of green smoke?” Jaime could hit Scott for asking that.

Lenore stood up angrily, knocking over her glass of lemonade. “They just left!”

The entire room shook. It dazed Jaime, and the others as well. There was a few minutes of nothing, until Lydia stood up. It seemed she recovered quicker than the others, Jaime’s head still spinning. Why couldn’t the earth just decide to stay in one place instead of moving around him. 

“We didn’t mean to upset you. We’ll just go.” Lydia gestured for them to get up. 

Everyone did, a bit unsteady. As they made their way to the door, it slammed shut. Nothing seemed to cause it. This seemed to snap everyone out the daze, rushing to the door. Scott rammed his body against it.

_ [It’s no use. The door will not budge] _

“Scott, Scott! ¡Para! Stop!” Jaime ran up to him, gripping his arm. “It’s not going to budge.”

“Bart.” Scott had a wild look in his eyes. “Can you vibrate through?”

There was hesitation on Bart’s part, before he started vibrating. Then he darted straight towards the door. Only to slam right into the solid object and fall to the ground. Without hesitation Jaime went to his side, gently helping him back to his feet.

“Owwwwww.” Bart rubbed his nose.

“Carajo Bart, you’re bleeding.” Jaime gently reached up, touching the blood dripping from Bart’s nose. “It doesn’t look to be broken…”

_ [There is no sign of a break] _

“Gracias a Dios. It’s not broken. I don’t know why you’re bleeding though. I know Wally used to, I don’t know if he still does,” Jaime commented, starting to ramble a bit with nerves.

“Blue, you’re rambling.” Bart blinked at him, reaching up to touch the blood dribbling out of his nose.

Lydia suddenly appeared at their side, a damp washcloth in her hands. Gently she began to wipe away the drying blood. Newer blood continued to dribble out of Bart’s nose, but she wiped that away too. Then she handed the washcloth off to Jaime and looked up at Lenore. It was a bit startling to see how composed she was, Scott still standing in shock.

“Lenore, please unlock the door,” Lydia said.

“Now that you’re here you need to say, Caleb likes you,” Lenore insisted. It seemed that the blood on Bart’s face didn’t faze her.

“We like Caleb too, but we need to help our town because people are disappearing like they were here. You could really help us.”

“You can’t do anything. If they want to leave, they’re going to go and go and there’s nothing you can do to stop them.”

Bart flinched away at a wipe that was a bit harder than the others. With a muttered apology Jaime made an effort to be gentler. Seeing the blood on Bart’s face brought out the protective side Jaime had no idea he had. There was silence for a few minutes.

_ [There is something here Jaime Reyes] _

“What?” Jaime turned to look behind him.

A little blonde boy stood in the entryway, Caleb. There was something, off about him. It reminded him of, Sheriff Stilinski. The feeling he got around the man was the same he got around Caleb. This was not a good feeling.

“Come with me.” Caleb’s voice was strange and echoing, almost doubled over with another voice. He was looking at him, Bart, and Scott. Lydia was completely ignored.

Lenore had disappeared to clean up the glass. Silently Lydia urged them off, turning to follow Lenore. With a gentle hand, Jaime helped Bart up. After a quick check, Bart’s nose was no longer bleeding, they followed Scott and Caleb. The two entered a darkened family room, Bart and Jaime behind them. There was a thin layer of dirty water on the ground, a cassette tape in the dirty water, and a TV showing only static. Immediately Scott went to the window, trying to open it and it didn’t budge.

“Caleb, can you help us get out?” Scott asked.

“You have to stay. Mommy said so.” Caleb’s voice kept the doubled sound. “This is home.”

The door slammed shut behind Bart and Jaime. By his side, Bart’s breathing hitched and he turned around to stare at the door. However Jaime was distracted by Caleb. There was no way he would look away from him. Not if he seemed to have the same abilities of his mother, controlling the house. It was quiet around them as Caleb picked up the wet cassette tape and pushed it in.

_ [Jaime Reyes]  _ Khaji sounded worried, which worried Jaime. It wasn’t often Khaji had any sort of emotion.  _ [The scan of Sheriff Noah Stilinski yielded the same results of the scan of Caleb Sagal] _

Jaime wasn’t sure what to do with that information. Whatever this meant, it couldn’t be good. Khaji wouldn’t have brought it up if it was. Especially since Jaime didn’t ask. 

A video started to play on the TV, Bart turning back around to watch. It was of Caleb blowing bubbles. But something wasn’t right. The time stamp. Caleb didn’t look different, not from then. Which meant.

“Caleb, when were you born?” Jaime asked softly.

“1976,” Caleb replied without looking at them.

“And when did you die?” Scott questioned.

That’s when things started to go wrong. Water, dirty and tons of it, started to pour out of the walls and down the stairs. It wasn’t difficult to figure out that Caleb was the one doing it. By his side, Bart panicked and ran at Caleb. Perhaps to attack him, or some other reason. But Bart suddenly stopped, hand coming to his throat. Then he started coughing up water. The same dirty water that was pouring from the ceilings and the stairway.

“Bart!” Jaime exclaimed.

_ [The Impulse’s lungs have filled with water!] _

As Jaime ran to his side, suddenly he couldn’t breath. Water filled his lungs. No matter how many times he coughed it wouldn’t come out of his lungs. A memory, faint and hazy, reminded him of someone that told him that drowning was peaceful. Jaime couldn’t relate. It was terrifying. Air couldn’t reach his lungs. Scott ran to the door, calling for Lydia, but soon was brought down by the water as well.    
“What’re you doing to us?!” Scott demanded around mouthfuls of water.

“You’re drowning. Like I did. We’ll all be friends forever,” Caleb replied.

Coughing up some more water, watching it splash against the rising water in the room, Jaime felt his eyes water. Air, he needed air. Then, suddenly, he could breath again. Around him, Bart and Scott let in gasps of air. The door flew open. They could leave.

“Mommy says you can go now.” Caleb didn’t look away from the video of when he was alive. 

Without hesitation, Bart ran out of the room and probably out of the house. Right after him was Scott. However Jaime hesitated for a few seconds, watching Caleb. If Khaji had the same readings from Caleb as he did Sheriff Stilinski, what did that mean? In his head, Khaji was suspiciously silent.

By the time he had joined the rest of the group, it looked like a decision had been a made. A quick glance at Lydia and Lenore clued him in. Lenore would be staying. Somehow, Jaime couldn’t bring himself to feel more than pity for her. Trapped in a town with only her dead son as company. It was a sad life to live.

“Did Stiles send us here to warn us?” Scott asked softly.

“This was moded,” Bart complained, rubbing his throat gently.

“I wouldn’t put it past him, ese. If sus hermanos are Nightwing and Red Hood, as well as Red Robin and Robin, that would mean he’s a batkid,” Jaime answered.

“And that means?” Scott demanded.

“He has a plan. This could be a warning of what’ll happen if we fail. The moded scenario that is also reality.” It was the first time Jaime had heard Bart so serious. 

“Not good?”

Bart shook his head silently. Everyone went silent. The only sound the rumbling of the car engine. Not even the radio was playing. 

“We need to get everyone out of Beacon Hills. We need to leave!” Scott exclaimed.

“We can’t let them leave yet,” Lydia spoke up. Her grip on the steering wheel tightened. “I saw what happened to the people they’ve taken once the Wild Hunt moves on to a new place. It’s worse than death. Their souls are hollowed out, they become Ghost Riders then were gone.”

**_*********BATWOLF**********_ **

It was probably a good thing that they had agreed to return to Scott’s house. As it seemed the newer Beta’s had brought Theo back from where he had been with the Skinwalkers. If he ever was with the Skinwalkers in the first place. That had never been confirmed. 

“We can’t trust Theo.” Something that everyone agreed on.

“But we can still use him,” Liam argued.

_ [It’d be better to kill him] _

“We’re not killing him.” Jaime felt a bit better at the startled, and frankly terrified, look on Theo’s face.

“Liam, he used you to try and kill me. When you failed he finished it. He killed all the other Chimeras and his sister!” Scott argued.

Jaime couldn’t help but notice Theo’s flinch at the mention of his sister. Interesting, definitely something to look into. 

“He remembers Stiles! No one else does!” Liam was not giving up. “He’s our best bet at getting him back! He made a mistake but so did you! You made plenty of mistakes as Alpha. Hell, Derek’s a better Alpha!”

“We have to do whatever we can to save Stiles,” Scott agreed, reluctantly.

_ [Eliminate the threat as soon as his usefulness has expired] _

Jaime sighed, exhausted and resting his head on the table. To his right Liam was threatening Theo with Kira’s sword. On his left Bart sat quietly, if tapping his fingers rapidly on the island counted as quiet. Across from him Scott fumed silently. Then there was Hayden, no real purpose for her being there except as Liam’s girlfriend and probable moral support.

“We’re not eliminating anyone, ese.” Jaime kept his head on the table. Probably missing any weird looks in his direction.

Both Bart and Jaime made their way home. But there was a surprise there. Batman himself. Except, it wasn’t exactly Batman. Somehow Jaime knew it was Batman, but standing there was Bruce Wayne. Him and the Sheriff were talking calmly, before the Sheriff excused himself for work.

“Batman?” Jaime broached quietly once the Sheriff was gone.

“Show me the bedroom,” Batman ordered, standing up. 

No one argued. Quickly and efficiently they tore down the wallpaper and opened the door. There would be no way of hiding this from the Sheriff when he returned home. On Batman’s, excuse him Bruce Wayne’s, face there was something akin to confusion. Slowly he turned in place of the dark room, only light from the window streaming in.

“How did Noah not know about this?” Mr. Wayne asked aloud. “How did you two know about it?”

“Lydia told us,” Bart spoke up.

Jaime was distracted. Around the room, his brain was putting furniture and other stuff in place for him. A bed, in the corner near the window. Stuff scattered across it as though it was another place for things. The corkboard, covered with string and pictures, usually used for figuring out cases. A desk, computer on it and a bunch of other miscellaneous items.

“Blue?” Bart was in his face.

“Tell me everything you know,” Mr. Wayne ordered.

They closed the door. This was going to be a long talk. One with a lot of explanations and possible contradictions. But Bruce Wayne was Batman, there was no way he wouldn’t listen to them. Right?

“In Canaan, there was a lady. Her name was Lenore. She managed to conjure up her dead son,” Jaime explained, consciously trying to avoid any spanish words. “Lenore was trying to fill a void and her son manifested.”

“We could all see him. He was real. Everyone disappeared and she didn’t want to believe it. Instead she chose her son,” Bart continued, the seriousness he had in Canaan still there.

“You’re talking about Noah,” Mr. Wayne concluded.

Jaime hesitated, “Khaji Da scanned both Caleb and the Sheriff. Their scans are the same.”

For a few minutes, Mr. Wayne said nothing. But then he shook his head. Turning his head away, Jaime caught sight of a uniform. Hanging off the desk chair. Without hesitation he walked to it and picked it up. For a few minutes he just held the grey material of the Shadow Fox costume. Then he traced the symbol on it.

“Jaime, you and Bart are returning home. This mission has affected your mental health,” Mr. Wayne said.

“You’re scared to believe that you had another Robin.” Jaime turned around, Bart’s eyes following the movement of the uniform in his hands. 

Without another word, Jaime underhand tossed the Shadow Fox uniform at Mr. Wayne. As though on instinct, Mr. Wayne caught it. His eyes widened in shock and he gently rubbed the fabric between his fingers. 

**_*********BATWOLF*********_ **

For some reason they all met up in the Sheriff’s Station. There was no reasonable explanation to this, especially as Sheriff Stilinski was currently not in, but it seemed like something they always did. But the why alluded him. Maybe it was part of something they did with Stiles. A muscle memory of sorts. Subconsciousness was very difficult to erase.

“How do you plan to get Stiles out?” Peter demanded.

“I’ll bite him,” Scott replied.

“He’ll hate you forever if you do that,” Bart spoke up. It seemed like he hadn’t realized he had spoken.

“How do you know that?” 

“I don’t… I don’t know.”

“How do we know the bite will even take?” Jaime asked, bringing the conversation back.

“He’s strong.” Lydia sounded so sure.

For some reason, Jaime felt like the bite wouldn’t work on Stiles. Maybe not necessarily in the dying way. But Jaime wasn’t sure what way he was talking about. Besides, he couldn’t shake this feeling that they had bitten Stiles before. Or maybe that wasn’t Stiles. This was all to confusing.

“Are you going to bite everyone at the train station?” Peter poked a hole at Scott’s plan.   
“We just need Stiles. Then we can figure out how to save everyone else,” Scott replied.

“We’re the only ones left in Beacon Hills. We should just run.”

This conversation was going nowhere. Maybe it’d be more productive to be anywhere  _ but _ here. In fact, he wasn’t even sure if paying attention was even worth it. At least Khaji Da was smart enough to pay attention even if Jaime wasn’t. That way he’d have some way to know what they decided on when they finished.

“Blue.” Bart gently tugged in his arm.

The group made their way to where Peter had appeared. They searched around for, something. It wasn’t clear exactly what they were looking for. There wasn’t anything said in any lore about rifts. Or even what there was out there. If any Ghost Riders came out of the rift… let’s just say it would end badly for them. Then again, maybe they’d get to see Stiles again and help him out.

“I found something!” Scott called out.

“It’s below ground,” Lydia murmured.

A pipe, bars were bent outwards. Dead leaves, the kind that always appeared with the Ghost Riders, scattered around the entrance. They climbed through the pipes and down into the tunnels. Mentally Jaime just seemed to know which tunnels to go down, or more accurately tunnel, and he was fairly certain it was Khaji probing his subconscious. 

It was, unsurprisingly, Bart who ran right into the Rift. Somehow he hadn’t noticed that Jaime had stopped, Lydia and Scott had followed his lead. However Bart bounced right off and crashed at Jaime’s feet.

_ [There is a Rift into a pocket dimension three feet in front of you Jaime Reyes] _

“I didn’t notice, ese,” Jaime muttered, lifting Bart to his feet.

“It’s crash, that was a rush!” Bart exclaimed, practically vibrating. “Let’s do that again!!”

“Let’s not,” Lydia suggested, scanning Bart for any noticeable injuries.

_ [The Einstein-Rosen bridge theory is applicable to this Rift] _

“Einstein-Rosen Bridge?” Jaime asked.

“Remarkably alike,” Lydia agreed, neither the Scarab nor the Banshee elaborating further.

Bart suddenly reappeared by their side with a metal pipe. As he pushed the pipe against the rift, it began to burn the pipe. However Bart continued to push the metal pipe until it was all basically melted. Then he dropped it with a huff onto the ground, kicking the leftover bits away. It rattled against the floor.

“Getting through doesn’t have to be hard,” Douglas spoke up.

_ [The Hellhound is with the helium breathing man Jaime Reyes] _

“Helium breathing?” Jaime asked himself softly.

“It burns through everything that touches it,” Scott argued.

“Not everything.”

Like everything in their lives, the next part was very dramatic. From around the corner Jordan Parrish, youngest deputy on the force and a hellhound to boot,  came. His fangs were bared, body smoldering from extinguished fire. Yet his eyes, a normally golden flame like hue, were a pale green. The same green that everyone disappeared into smoke with. Also the same green that… Corey?, saw through when he was invisible.

“A hellhound can go through the rift, we can all go together,” Douglas explained.

“You’re the bad guy,” Bart pointed out, “It’d be moded to help you.”

“What is good or bad? When has anyhing been black or white?”

“World War II,” Liam, a new voice, spoke up.”He’s a Nazi! He wants the Wild Hunt as his own Supernatural Army.”

As if that was enough of a reason, Khaji took control long enough too armour Jaime up. Used to the overprotective scarab, Jaime allowed it. However he made it clear he disagreed with this method. Bart vibrated anxiously, ready to run. 

“You’re not getting inside,” Scott growled, fangs bared and eyes glowing.

The whip rose and immediately it seemed familiar. As though he knew someone skilled with a whip, one that could use it as more than a torture device. A flash of a face, covered with a dark black to silver ombre mask, mouth open as though he was teasing someone. Then he was knocked to the side as Bart charged into him, the two collapsing on the ground. The whip struck the floor where he had been standing two minutes ago.

This left the rift exposed.

“Hellhound.” Parrish’s face rose, the pale green of his eyes unsettled Jaime. “Open the Rift.”

It burnt, Parrish and the Rift. Flames danced along the Hellhounds skin as the Rift parted beneath his fingers. Even from his spot on the ground, Jaime could feel the heat on his skin. No wonder the Ghost Riders looked like they did, there was no way they would heal fast enough going back and forth through the Rift with their prey. Magic had something to do with how they weren’t already completely destroyed. 

“Get through the portal!” Lydia shouted at them.

Without a thought, Jaime and Bart went to charge at Parrish. But he went through the portal after Douglas. 

_ [The Impulse will not gather enough speed to fully make it through the portal] _

“Bart!” Jaime shouted, suddenly fearful, “Bart! You’re not gonna make it!”

Somehow it seemed Bart heard him, skidding to a stop right as the portal closed. It wasn’t enough for him to stop before, as he ended up bouncing right off. Jaime sagged in relief, rushing to Bart’s side.

“Riders!” Scott warned, “Liam, Lydia go to the Bunker!” 

Despite clearly wanting to argue, Lydia kept her mouth shut and tugged Liam after her. That was a good thing too, as Bart and Jaime barely escaped getting caught by the Ghost Riders whip. Somehow he felt like he had practiced against someone who used a whip, or maybe they had an enemy he couldn’t remember that used a whip as their primary weapon. Jaime wasn’t sure. It wasn’t the same kind of whip though, Jaime could remember the whip in his mind’s eye. This wasn’t a chain whip. 

“Scott!” Bart exclaimed, disappearing from Jaime’s side. Well, not exactly disappearing. Merely moving too fast for Jaime’s mind to keep up.

Jaime’s head rose, the yellow eyes of the Scarab scanning the battlefield while he crouched behind a corner. There was Scott, escaping from the whip around his neck with Bart’s help. He hadn’t been taken. That meant.

“They’re trying to kill us!” Scott warned.

“I think I’ve figured that out ese, but gracias!” Jaime replied, ducking when a bullet flew at his head. It slammed into the pipe wall behind him. 

They were surrounded, Jaime’s sonic cannon doing nothing to deter them. It had at first, Khaji Da cranking it up to the highest it could be while Scott and Bart covered their ears. Even that didn’t slow them down. The sonic cannon switched off when Khaji realized it had no effect.

_ [There is a 2% chance you will get out of this Jaime Reyes] _ Even Khaji sounded nervous.

“You’ll be alright, right ese?” Jaime asked, Bart swallowing beside him.

The guns rose and were trained on them. Slowly the Ghost Riders moved closer, but then Peter (Peter maldito Hale) showed up out of nowhere. One of the guns went off, right at Jaime. But then Bart, the idiot(!), dove in front of him. The second of impact and Bart was gone in a flash of green smoke.

“BART!” Jaime screeched.

“Run!” Peter shouted at the same time.

Without hesitation, Scott grabbed Jaime’s arm and dragged him out of the tunnel. Still staring back at where Bart disappeared, Jaime watched as Peter was caught then shot at point blank range. He too disappeared in a flash of green smoke. The tears on Jaime’s face continued to fall, even after he forgot why he was crying.

At some point they were sitting in Scott’s kitchen, something that hadn’t been decided but had just happened. For some reason Jaime felt numb, as though something important had just been torn away from him. His heart crushed to pieces beneath his feet. Tears continued to drip from his eyes, clumping up his lashes, but Jaime couldn’t figure out  _ why _ .  _ Why _ was he so sad?  _ Why? _ Over and over again Scott called his Mom, just to hear her voice over the answering machine. Though Jaime couldn’t figure out why he remembered her.

_ [Without his mother, Scott would not exist] _

So that was the reason. Jaime cleared his throat, “She’s just gone.” Dios, his voice was awful and croaky. “She’s not dead. We need to figure out our next move. We can’t keep hiding.”

“The Ghost Riders were scared of Lydia,” Liam pointed out.

Silently Lydia shook her head. “It was more like reverence.”

“It doesn’t matter. It’s gone. The Rift is gone. The only one in Beacon Hills,” Scott spat it out like a curse.

Letting his head fall to his hands, Jaime tugged on the dark brown strands of hair in frustration. This was too much for him. He was just one hero, one single hero. He hadn’t even graduated from the Team yet to go into the Justice League. Not like the Blue Beetle before him. Why hadn’t he gone back to Mount Justice with Cassie?

“I have a nephew,” Bruce Wayne had suddenly entered. When had that happened? “A son, adopted but still a son. Mieczysław Stilinski. Even when he came to live with us he couldn’t pronounce his own name.” Mr. Wayne chuckled softly, a genuine laugh that Jaime had never heard before. “We always called him Stiles, even Alfred let it slip once. But only once. I remember Claudia would write me letters about him when he was younger, talking about all the mischief her little Mischief would cause in the house. She always called him Mischief, until she died. I remember Stiles’ face when he saw that we kept the Jeep for him, the pure joy that overcame his face. Alfred snuck a picture and had it framed.” This was the most Jaime had ever heard of Stiles. “The first time he ever drove it he managed to spin into a ditch on the manor driveway. Alfred gave him a tool kit and Jay, oh god Jay, gave him a roll of duct tape with a wide grin on his face. That kid always got into trouble, usually dragging his friends into it. Then he went to Beacon Hills with his closest friends and his older brother. And then managed to convince his civilian friend to come into the woods with him to find a dead body.”

“Mr. Wayne,” Lydia whispered softly, looking like her heart was physically breaking.

“Stiles room came back and so did all the memories.” Mr. Wayne looked up, looking as lost as the man behind Batman could. “I remember Jason becoming part of the family again, I remember Dick and Jason together, I remember how my two eldest sons followed their little brother to Beacon Hills for the mission I sent him on.”

“Dick and Jason,” Jaime breathed out softly, flashes of memory appearing in his mind.

“On their way to help. Well, Jason didn’t give me a yes or no answer. I thought I saw Stiles, just for a moment. It was like something opened in the middle of the room.”

“A rift.” Liam’s face was one of realization.

“We have to remember,” Lydia summed up.

**_*********BATWOLF*******_ **

“Are all the entrances sealed?” Scott asked.

“Yeah,” Jaime replied, glancing around too double check.

They were in the Argent Bunker. It was probably the most controlled area for them to do this, no distractions and no way that the Ghost Riders could get inside. At least until they opened up the Rift. But that was something they could deal with if it happened, seeing as Liam and the Wayne’s would be in charge of keeping the Riders distracted.

“The Cold Sarcophagus will lower Scott’s body temperature and slow his heart rate enough that he’ll go into a hypnotic state. Similar as what we did for Isaac to remember the Alpha Pack,” Lydia explained.

“If we can figure out how to work it,” Jaime reminded her.

“If we can figure out how to work it,” Lydia conceded.

It honestly wasn’t difficult to figure out how the sarcophagus worked. Once they were positive that they weren’t going to mess up they locked Scott inside of it, Jaime and Lydia going through the steps to turn it on. Cold foggy air filled up the enclosed space, Scott’s face being the only thing seen.

“We need to guide Scott, keep him focused,” Lydia told Jaime, before focusing on Scott. “Scott, think about Stiles. What he looked like. Things that he’s said.”

_ [The True Alpha’s heart rate is lowering] _

“It’s supposed to, ese,” Jaime whispered under his breath.

_ [The True Alpha is losing consciousness] _

“Lydia, we’re losing him,” Jaime warned.

“Scott!” Lydia shouted. “Don’t get lost in your memories! Scott!”

“Try to find the good and the bad memories of him Scott.” Jaime tried to his luck at this. Whatever this was. He had to be very careful with his wordings so not to slip into Spanish. 

“We’ve lost him,” Lydia whispered to Jaime.

_ [There is a fifty fifty chance that either the cold or the overload of memories will kill the True Alpha] _

Jaime repeated the information to Lydia, not as bluntly. The Banshee inhaled sharply and looked back at the sarcophagus holding Scott. Her lips became a thin line as she gave a sharp, almost frustrated, smile back at Jaime. 

“It’s kinda my first time trying to open a rift through space and time. Fumbling around in the dark here,” Lydia snapped.

“Mierda.” Could hit himself. “Scott’s fumbling.”

“Scott.” Lydia was speaking to him again, so Jaime went quiet. “Scott, listen to me. Imagine the school hallway, with all the lockers. Each of those lockers holds a memory of Stiles.”   
“What am I supposed to do? Lydia?” Scott’s voice was slow, like he was talking in his sleep.

“Find another memory,” Lydia ordered.

Frost began to creep along the window. This set off warning bells in Jaime’s mind. The sarcophagus was getting too cold. Much too cold for even a True Alpha. He highly doubted even Mr. Freeze or Freeze Jr would be able to last long in there.

“He’s getting too cold,” Lydia whispered, her fingers gently touching the window separating her and Scott.

“What if, it’s not about remembering?” Jaime fiddled with his sweater, trying to form what he was thinking in words. “But, sentimiento, emotional connection instead. Señor Wayne was remembering a nephew, a son.”

“The emotional attachment would be intense.”

“Scott. You and Stiles, you were more than just amigos, friends. You and Stiles, you were planning to get an apartment together. After graduation. Cassie told you guys moving in with your best friend was a bad idea. Stiles told her that you guys were more than friends, you were hermanos, brothers.”

_ [Heart rate dropped] _

“His heart rate is too low! We need to get him out!” Jaime was already turning everything off.

Lydia quickly opened the door and Jaime and her caught Scott as he came out. Just a touch of skin to skin contact was enough for Jaime to feel just how cold Scott was. This was worse than the time he had gotten his arm frozen from Captain Cold. 

“It didn’t work.” Scott was clearly distressed. “We didn’t open the portal. I’ve gotta go back in, I’ve gotta.”

“No, you’ll freeze to death,” Lydia argued.

“I’ll go. I’ve known Stiles the longest right, ese?” Jaime offered.

“I guess, but you’re human.” Scott just wasn’t going for it.

“The Scarab won’t let me die, right ese?”

_ [I will exterminate whoever tries to harm you Jaime Reyes] _

Jaime didn’t even bat an eye at the answer. Honestly he’s heard worse come out of Khaji’s mouth… did Khaji even have a mouth?

“See.”

“Jaime we can’t hear him,” Lydia deadpanned.

“Let him, but we’re pulling you out the second something seems wrong,” Scott growled. 

That was permission if Jaime had ever heard it. Quickly stripping himself of his shirt, allowing both Scott and Lydia the first look of Khaji in all the time he’s known them, Jaime entered the sarcophagus. Unwittingly he shivered, still feeling the leftover coldness from when Scott used it. The door closed and Jaime took a deep breath, a little scared now.

_ [Relax Jaime Reyes] _

“Easier said than done.” Jaime let his eyes slip close. Then he took a deep breath as the sarcophagus grew colder around him. 

_ Imagine a library, each book is a memory of times between you and Stiles.  _

The library from Mount Justice flooded into his mind. Books upon books, some from different realms or planets, stacked high upon the bookcases. Silently he reached out and grabbed a book, turning it over in his hand. The title read “A Guide to Knowing Your Villains” which was written by Nightwing. Unsurprising. Jaime opened it.

_ They were fighting against plants. Poison Ivy. In his grasp was Stiles, wearing his Robin costume and with a bird-a-rang in his grasp. The two were flying above the plants, weaving in and out.  _

_ “Can you get me close?” Robin asked, switching out the bird-a-rang for something in his belt. “I think I can knock her out.” _

_ “You sure amigo?” the Jaime in the past asked. _

_ “Like ninety-five percent.” _

[That leave five percent open for failure]

_ “Better than nothing, ese,” Jaime muttered to the Scarab. _

_ Thankfully Stiles didn’t say anything. With his next sentence Jaime directed it to Stiles. _

_ “You better know what you’re doing. Otherwise Khaji is going to kill something.” _

_ “I thought you could control that thing!” _

_ “It’s fifty fifty most of the time.” _

_ Jaime didn’t see exactly what Stiles did. But whatever it was, whatever was in that gas, worked. All the plants began to die, but Poison Ivy seemed to be choking. The two landed on the ground. Someone skidded up next to them, all red and white with yellow goggles over his eyes.  _

“Bart.”

The book fell from his grasp, clattering to the floor still open. Bart. How could he forget? Bart Allen, his boyfriend. The only person that never treated him differently and kept the biggest secret from him to save him from becoming the monster he was destined to be. Bart Allen, the one person who never gave up on. How could Jaime forget him? Despite feeling the chill in the air Jaime picked up another book. This time he didn’t even check the title before opening it.

_ They were in his bedroom, in his bad. Bart’s face smushed into his chest, auburn hair the only thing he could see. A hand was gripping the back of his tank top, shaking slightly. Bart took in a shaky sigh and Jaime worried on his bottom lip. _

_ “I… I was back in the future. You were there, not as Blue Beetle… like the bad one there. You were, you. Jaime Reyes. But Blue Beetle, the bad one. He had you…” Bart let out a shaky sob. “He was torturing you. I couldn’t do anything but watch, Black was holding me back. You were screaming and…” _

_ Jaime clutched Bart tighter, “Hey, it’s okay cariño. We stopped them remember?” _

The book slipped from his fingers and he took a shaky breath. Stiles, he had to focus on Stiles. They’d get both of them back, but he couldn’t just focus on one. Both of them. Memories with both of them. That was a good idea. He’d do that. With a soft sigh he opened another book.

_ “We won’t let you!” Bart shouted, face tight with emotion. _

_ They were in front of Eichen House. Talking Stiles out of checking himself in there. By his side Bart stood, refusing to stand down _

_ “You and what army Bart?” Stiles demanded. _

_ It was all over his body and face, Stiles was tired. Somehow Jaime just couldn’t look away. Any second it looked like Stiles would fall, break like a porcelain doll. Shatter like a mirror. Just crack due to all the pressure. In all honesty Jaime couldn’t blame him. _

_ “I think we’ve got the beginning of an army right here,” Dick said, gesturing to them all. _

_ The group stood up straighter. Jaime himself straightened up and gripped his fists by his side. Already he could see Stiles’ resolve breaking. Yet he was still clinging to his fear. The fear of the Nogitsune. But they could handle themselves. They were heroes. _

Closing the book, Jaime tossed it to the side. Then he picked up another one, ignoring the books littering the floor of the library. It grew colder but Jaime quickly opened the book to find himself in another memory.

_ “Stiles!” Bart was gone from his side and suddenly hugging Robin. _

_ “Were you crying?” Cassie was in Stiles face, blue eyes scanning his cheeks. There were tear tracks there. _

_ “What happened hermano?” Jaime gently rested his hand on Stiles’ shoulder for comfort, squeezing it gently.  _

_ The squeeze made Stiles wince. Was his shoulder injured? What happened? What was Jaime missing?  _

_ “Stiles.” Jaime didn’t want to spook him, but they needed to know. _ _   
_ _ “You know, don’t you?” The question was directed at Bart, not him.  _

_ Bart nodded and Jaime had to hold back the feeling of jealousy. How out of the loop was he? He glanced over at Cassie, at least she was as confused as he was. It made him feel slightly better about himself. _

_ “Know what?!” Cassie demanded. _

_ Jaime let the next few words wash over him until he heard Stiles’ voice again. Whatever happened between didn’t matter all that much. _

_ “Look its…” Whatever it was, it was affecting Stiles. The younger tugged his hair gently. “A few nights ago… give or take a few days, I was in the library. I was, attacked by a chimera… Donovan.” Cassie inhaled sharply. _

[Donovan disappeared from the van and hasn’t been seen since. There is a high probability that he is dead or was killed]  _ Jaime’s eyes narrowed. _

_ “I tried to get away… it didn’t work. I climbed some scaffolding and pulled out the pin.” Jaime was sure the others could see the horror on his face, but they looked horrified as well. “It fell and…” It seemed Stiles couldn’t finish. So Bart did it for him. _

_ “Donovan died.” Bart’s voice was dispassionate. Jaime wasn’t sure what was worse. _

Jaime was too cold to finish the memory. The book slipped from his numb fingers and clattered to the ground. His normally dark skin was pale, lips probably blue, and he could see his breath.

_ [Jaime Reyes you need to get out! You’re going to die!] _

Then Jaime fell forward, eyes flying open. Lydia caught him and quickly wrapped a blanket around him, rubbing the blanket up and down on his skin. Teeth chattering Jaime tried to curl up enough to bring warmth to every part of his body. 

“We can’t save anybody by freezing to death.” Jaime had to concede Lydia had a point.

“It was working, chica!” Jaime protested, shivering still.

“There was only a light and we heard a strange noise.” Lydia brushed him off.

“I remember Stiles better than I ever have before. He seems real now,” Scott protests.

“Ditto, I also remember Bart, my cariño.” Jaime wiggled his toes to bring warmth to them.

Lydia glared at them. “There’s a difference between a vivid memory and an actual corporeal human being.”

There was silence for a few moments. Lydia had a point, as loathe as they were to admit it. With a soft sigh Jaime leaned back against the wall, tugging the blanket tighter around himself. There wasn’t exactly any arguing with Lydia. But maybe, there was another way they could do that. In most of the memories there were the three superheroes and Stiles brother’s. But maybe, maybe there was someone else that would be able to bring Stiles back. Except, he wasn’t here.

“We need Derek,” Jaime sighed softly.

“Already called him,” Lydia spoke up, eyes flicking over to Jaime. “He said he’d be here.”

“In most of the memories Stiles and Derek were close,” Scott agreed. “He’d be the key.”

“Which is why we need him here, now.”

As though they all expected him to show up when Jaime said that, they all looked at the door. Nothing happened. As they were about to suggest that Lydia do the next hypnosis, despite the obvious part of her being unable to survive the sarcophagus (Khaji being the only reason Jaime lasted as long as he did), the door’s wheel whirled and Derek stepped in. His hair and beard were longer and a bit scruffier than normal, but it was still obvious Derek.

“Derek!” Scott exclaimed.

“You knew I was coming right? You don’t have to sound surprised,” Derek mentioned. “Did you also know that Beacon Hills is practically a ghost town?”

“No time to explain.” Lydia cut him off before any other questions could be asked. “We need you to remember.”

“Remember what? You mentioned a Stiles?” 

“Stiles, you need to remember Stiles, chico.” Jaime got to his feet, resting a hand on his shoulder. “Your boyfriend.”

Derek chuckled softly, raising an eyebrow. “What?”

“We don’t have time to explain much. Stiles is real, he’s the son of the deceased Stilinski’s, he’s part of our pack, he’s your boyfriend aka the Alpha’s Mate, he’s a superhero by the name of Shadow Fox, now get in the sarcophagus and remember him.” Lydia shoved him forward.

It was a testament to all they’ve been through together that Derek willingly went inside the sarcophagus. Maybe this all seemed familiar to Derek. The memories of Stiles trying to pass through his mind. Or maybe, Derek felt the loss of Stiles even stronger than they did. Derek had to know something was up. Why else would he not struggle against Lydia? 

“Take a deep breath and relax.” Scott and Jaime turned on the sarcophagus as Lydia spoke to Derek. “Feel the muscles in your body begin to relax. Your hands relaxing. Your eyelids relaxing. As you relax, imagine you’re sitting in front of a TV. When you turn the TV on, it’s going to be the memories of your life. The remote gives you total control. You can play any memory you like. Just hit a button.”

Underneath his eyelids, Derek’s eyes moved. It was clear he was going through the memories. Memories of Stiles, Jaime hoped. Maybe memories of the two of them Jaime didn’t know, maybe ones that Stiles held dear and never told anyone else. Perhaps there were memories in there that Stiles didn’t deem more special than others, but Derek held dear to his heart. There were endless possibilities. Jaime wondered if he and Bart were like that.

“Try to find a memory of Stiles. A memory where you felt a connection with him. Find another memory. Keep looking for Stiles.”

There was silence then, “That’s when it happened.”

“What do you mean?” Scott asked, but Lydia waved her hand angrily at him to make him shut up.

“That’s when I realized I loved him.” Derek’s eyes opened, it was like the cold hadn’t even harmed him. Red eyes stared at them through the glass.

But they weren’t staring at him. There was a bright light behind them, lighting up the room. Derek exited the sarcophagus, Scott having unlocked it before turning to look behind them as well. Wind blew through the room, brushing their hair out of their face. 

“Stiles?” Derek whispered softly.

**_*******BATWOLF*******_ **

Then light faded away, no one was there. As though in anger Derek turned around a punched a hole straight through the glass. Jaime took a steadying breath, Dios, he thought he had seen Bart or someone there. But there was nobody.

“I don’t understand, he was right there,” Derek growled.

“I didn’t see anything,” Scott mentioned, shrugging a little. Lydia agreed.

“I saw something. I couldn’t tell if it was Bart or Stiles, ese,” Jaime murmured.

“He’s here, they’re here. I can feel my bond with Stiles again.” Derek paced the bunker.

They were silent for a few moments, as though unsure what they should do now. At least until Liam rushed through the doors of the bunker. There looked to be a few tear tracks on his cheek, but no other signs of any crying. No one mentioned it and Jaime wasn’t going to be the one to bring it up.

“There’s no one left. Everyone’s been taken,” Liam informed them.

That would explain the tears then.

“You three, stay here. Just in case Stiles, or Bart, come through.” Scott left before the others could argue.

They waited until Khaji’s sensors and Derek’s hearing couldn’t pick them up anymore. There was no way that Stiles or Bart would come through via the Bunker. Besides, Jaime had an idea on how, or where, they would come back. They were taken in one spot, they’d probably come back in the same spot. Issue was, there was no promises the two young superheroes would stay where they came back.

“Tire marks,” Derek spoke up, kneeling down besides them.

“From Stiles’ jeep?” Jaime asked.

“He doesn’t have his keys,” Lydia commented.

“He used a screwdriver more often anyways.” Derek stood back up, brushing off his jeans.

“We should tell Scott.” 

However Jaime wasn’t paying attention anymore. Instead his eyes were following the train tracks from inside the school to spanning the parking lot. One, he was fairly certain those weren’t there before. Two, if they were he highly doubted that any sane engineer would allow a train to go through the middle of the highschool.

“I’m going to find Stiles and Bart.” Derek looked back at the two of them. “You can either join me or investigate the school.”

“I’m going with you,” Jaime immediately spoke.   
“I’ll investigate the school. I just… feel like there’s something here.” Without waiting for them to say anything Lydia followed the tracks to the school.

Thankfully, they found Stiles and Bart with Scott and Liam. It seems that they had managed to come out, relatively unscathed. 

“Jaime!!” Bart crashed into him, clutching onto him tightly.

“Derek!” Stiles and Derek embraced and hugged each other tightly.

The group pulled away, Jaime still gripping Bart’s shoulder tightly. All his memories were back and he felt awful ( _ awful _ ) about forgetting him in the first place. So he kept the younger close to him, not that Bart seemed to mind.

“The world’s are converging,” Scott immediately spoke up once the couples broke apart. “Which is extremely difficult.”

“How is it possible to converge them?” Stiles asked, Derek was also keeping him close to his side.

“Corey can exist in both worlds.” Liam turned to face the others, stopping on top of the edge of the track. “He’s brought Mason and I with him too.”

“So it’s possible,” Derek deduced.

“Yeah, Douglas could be using Corey’s abilities to merge the two worlds.” Liam jumped off the rail, landing in front of them.

“He’s inside the hunt, we can’t get to him.” Stiles wasn’t going for it.

“So we divert the train. Crash!” Bart vibrated underneath Jaime’s arm.

“We have to find Corey!” Jaime argued, tripping over one of the planks on the track. He managed to catch himself before he fell down.

“You could get caught by the Ghost Riders,” Scott suggested.

“Not a pleasant idea, ese.” Jaime muttered.

_ [This plan has a 65% chance of failure]  _ Jaime ignored Khaji.

“That’s moded.” Bart muttered.

Liam seemed to have caught sight of something. A contemplative look crossed the beta’s face and Jaime looked in the same direction. At first he didn’t see anything different, just some grass, but then he focused a bit more. There were hoofprints on the ground, glowing partially.

_ [The Horses of the Ghost Riders] _

“I don’t need to get taken to get into the hunt.” Liam took off before anyone could say anything.

“The tracks lead to the school or into the woods,” Scott spoke up, “Should we split up?”

“Never again,” Stiles disagreed.

Everyone nodded their agreement. So they trudged along, entering the school. They looked around for any signs of Ghost Riders, but didn’t see any. However they continued forward cautiously, Jaime making sure Khaji was constantly scanning for any sort of sign. The merging of the worlds made it difficult to tell if he was picking up Ghost Riders or the world around them.

“This is too easy. Just walk up and switch the tracks,” Scott hesitated at the sight of the diverter.

_ [Agreed. It’s a trap] _

“Can you sense anything ese?” Jaime asked.

_ [The merging of the worlds have messed with my sensors. I cannot tell if there is a threat] _

“It can be easy,” Stiles argued, “For once we should just do easy.”

“I think Batman would disagree, ese.” Jaime was unsure. “Just be careful, ¿de acuerdo?”

“Always am.”

Then Stiles stepped away from Derek’s grasp, moving forward and reaching for the diverter. As he reached forward a whip wrapped around his outstretched wrist. The others immediately jumped into action, but it happened too fast for even Bart to react. There was a glow of light from Stiles’ wrist, his energy reacting to the threat, but he disappeared in a puff of green smoke.

“Stiles!” Derek roared, before he was shot and disappeared in a puff of smoke as well. 

Jaime turned, Bart speeding off from his side. There was Douglas, holding a whip and a Rider’s pistol. Another shot from the pistol and Scott was gone in a puff. The armour emerged and covered his skin, despite both him and Khaji knowing it would do nothing against the weapons of the Ghost Rider’s.

_ [Recommended tactic: Sonic Cannon] _

“Acuerdo.” Jaime agreed.

Before they could shoot it, a bullet from the pistol hit Jaime executioner style. His head snapped back and he felt his body disappear from where he was. He came too inside Dick’s classroom, memories returning made him realize just how strange the past days were, head spinning. In his head Khaji screamed curses.

“Caray, that hurt.” Jaime rubbed his head.

As he exited the room, he found Stiles running his way. Jaime waited until Stiles was closer before running alongside him. They (Stiles quite literally) ran into Scott on the stairs. Derek was with him already, but stayed silent other than making a pleased hum at the sight of Stiles unharmed. 

 

“The worlds are collapsing in on each other,” Stiles commented, flicking his whip anxiously. 

It was kinda amusing to see Stiles have his whip out, a chain whip that was really cool looking (especially when Stiles charged it with energy), without his costume on. Or at least a mask. Not that they had time to get ready. The whip wasn’t charged with energy, but that didn’t stop it from looking badass. It was made by Batman himself (specifically designed for Stiles to be able to combine his energy with it). Instead of actual chains it had sharp fox-tail shaped blades. Now it was designed in a way that it wouldn’t actually cut someone without Stiles putting the intent to cut into it. Now what Jaime, and Bart, thought was the coolest thing about the whip was it’s ability to store energy. There were silvery almost transparent ends to the blades that would store the energy, making the edges of the blade glow whenever Stiles used this particular feature. Like now. Off topic.

_ ~The Train will arrive in eleven minutes~  _

Jaime knew that voice. 

_ [Corey Bryant] _

Oh, that’s who the voice belonged to.

“We need to get back to the diverter!” Scott exclaimed.

As his sentence ended, Scott disappeared in a puff of green smoke. Eyes widening, Jaime went to run off but got shot instead. This time he reappeared inside the gym, near the locker rooms. Frustrated he stood up, already done with getting shot and reappearing somewhere else.

“Carajo, that’s annoying.”

Jaime got to his feet, only to end up face to face with a Ghost Rider. Thankfully Khaji had been refusing to remove the armour, which allowed Jaime a boost in power when he punched it away. A sword appearing in his right hand and the sonic cannon in his left, Jaime began to fight.

_ [One o’clock, three o’clock, six o’clock…] _

“Mierda I get it! They’re surrounding us!” Jaime ducked, swiping out with the sword and shooting with the sonic cannon at the same time.

Soon there was only one left and Jaime grabbed it’s wrist as it went to snap it’s whip at him, twisting the arm in his hand to make it drop the whip. As he did that the Ghost Rider began to raise the gun.

_ [Watch out!] _

At the same time as the warning rang in his head, something slammed right into the Ghost Rider. It went flying into the wall, Jaime nearly falling to the ground. There was an exclamation of surprise above his head and suddenly something was standing above him. Jaime blinked to clear his vision and saw Bart, in his Impulse costume, staring down at him in concern.

“You alright Blue?” Bart asked.

“That’s the second time you’ve saved me from a Rider, cariño!” Jaime exclaimed, blushing.

“Well yeah, you’re my boyfriend. Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do in this century?” 

Jaime was in his feet as quick as he possibly could. While Bart was still confused Jaime was feeling all sorts of different emotions. Gently grabbing Bart’s arms, he met his gaze. Dios, how had he ever forgotten about him? Jaime felt his heartbeat rise in pace, breath catching in his throat. Then he leaned forward, keeping eye contact with Bart. He could get lost in his eyes, had many times before. Head tilting to the side, Jaime captured the speedsters lips. Bart’s lips were soft, much like the petals of a rose. Releasing Bart’s wrist, he gently wrapped an arm around his slim waist. His other hand rose and he entangled his fingers into Bart’s hair.

“Dios, I missed you,” Jaime whispered when they parted.

Bart’s cheeks were dusted pink. “I should save you more often if that’s the thanks I’ll get.”

Jaime chuckled a little, gently tugging Bart after him. They still had a town to save.

Back at the diverter, a little worse for the wear due to a few minor skirmishes, the couple joined forces with some more of the pack. Even Theo was there, which meant that Khaji was grumbling and complaining about how he couldn’t ‘exterminate’ the werewolf. Honestly Jaime had to work, reluctantly, with villains before that he didn’t even care at this point. 

“...a lone wolf.” Jaime only heard the end of the speech from Douglas.

“He’s not a lone wolf,” Theo spoke up, eyes glowing gold, “He’s got a pack.”

Out of the wilderness Cassie (when had she gotten back? Jaime felt like he was missing something), Peter, Nightwing, and Red Hood came out with Theo. Following the cue, Jaime and Bart also stepped out. Immediately they were on the defensive, dodging whips and bullets from the Ghost Riders. They had to last long enough for someone to get to the diverter.

It was easy to get distracted in the fight. Every now and then Khaji would warn him of an attack and Jaime would make the necessary adjustment. There was a train whistle.

_ [The train will be here in less than two minutes, Jaime Reyes] _

“Carajo.”

Cassie leapt into action. More Rider’s appeared, Cassie knocking them down one by one. A quick glance over and Jaime saw Scott and Jason fighting back to back. Then Nightwing appeared, using the shoulder’s of a Ghost Rider as a handspring and kicking two away while twisting. All three Ghost Rider’s fell. Theo sliced at every Ghost Rider that got near, ducking away from gunshots and letting the bullets slam into the other Ghost Rider’s. Then there was Bart, tripping up Ghost Rider’s and using speed to gain enough momentum to knock them down like bowling pins. 

The lights of the train appeared, Cassie wrestling a whip away from the Ghost Rider’s. They made eye contact and Jaime went into the air. The whip flew towards him and Jaime, thankful for Stiles’ random lessons on how to use a whip (at Bart’s insistence), sent the end at the diverter. It wrapped around the end and he tugged. The track changed and the train sped down the new route. Everything and everybody froze, the Ghost Rider’s no longer fighting. A roar split the air, long and loud. Scott.

Jaime landed by Bart’s side, Cassie joining him on the other side. The Rider’s started to surround them. There was thunder and a flash of lightning. They holstered their weapons and the Rider’s began to walk away in a pack.

“Rückkehr! I’m your master!” Douglas yelled at the Rider’s.

All the Riders froze. By his side Cassie tensed, hand twitching to the lasso on her hip. Taking this as a sign to be on edge, Jaime crouched partially, ready to attack at a moment’s later. However the Rider’s ignored them and instead surrounded Douglas. Nobody moved.

“Rider’s don’t bow, they have no a leader,” Peter spoke up.

The sight in front of Jaime was horrifying. Douglas rose his hands, which had turned into gloves. Then his face turned into wooden, eyes going black and abyss like. The only way Jaime could distinguish him from the rest of the Ghost Riders at this point was due to the red armband with the swastika symbol. There was a flash of green lightning and they were all gone, Douglas with them.

“Is it over?” Cassie asked softly, brushing a stray piece of hair out of her face.

The sky cleared, stars becoming visible.

“It’s over,” Derek answered.

**_*******BATWOLF**********_ **

It’s the last day of school, they were all graduating. Everything felt unreal. It felt, normal. There was Jason, back in the house and taking care of them as though nothing happened. Dick, in the classroom teaching his last class of the year. The last class he would teach at Beacon Hills. Both Stiles and Cassie were at the school, like nothing had changed. But everything had.

“I missed three full months of my senior year! It just feels so anticlimactic.” Stiles zipped up his backpack.

“There’s still graduation,” Lydia pointed out.

The group all began to leave. Only Jaime noticing that Stiles stayed behind until the classroom lights turned off. His fingers twitched, as though he should do something. But he didn’t. What was there to do?

“It’s hard to believe we’re no longer in highschool,” Scott said, “It’s like nothings changed.”

“Everything’s changed,” Stiles argued, looking over at the other heroes. 

They’d be leaving soon. Their mission was over. They’d be returning to their normal lives, going to college but still superheroing. Already Oracle was working on changing their transcripts to match their real lives. Most likely they’d never see the pack, outside of the other heroes, again. 

The group made their way outside. Everything was suddenly very nostalgic, especially with Liam and Mason running up to them. By his side Bart gripped his hand tightly. Briefly Jaime entertained the idea that Batman would send other teen heroes around to take over for them. Maybe he’d send Damian, whom Jaime had only ever talked to once, and even possibly Static. While Jaime couldn’t think of anyone else, it was possibly that more members had joined that Jaime hadn’t met before. Maybe even some heroes that were allies of the Team but weren’t actually part of the Team.

“You’re the new Alpha now Liam,” Stiles told him.

“I can’t be the Alpha. I’d have to kill someone to take the power,” Liam corrected.

“Fine, you’re in charge now.”

“But what about Derek?”

“He’s joining Stiles in D.C. remember?” Mason nudged Liam gently.

“Oh right.”

“It doesn’t matter. What matters is that you guys are taking over. Cause we-” Stiles gestured widely at the group behind him. “-are going to college. Liam, Mason will always be there to save your ass.” With a wide smile, Stiles handed Mason one of his old whips. It was probably the first whip Stiles used in Beacon Hills, as it didn’t have the same energy containing parts that his current whip did. “You know what to do with this.”

With a wide grin, Mason took it. Stiles clapped his shoulder with a wide grin, Scott hugging Liam tightly. Then Liam and Mason walked away, leaving the group to their own devices. 

“So? Where are you guys going for college?” Scott asked, turning around to look at them.

“Texas Tech University, it’s near mi familia. I owe them after being away for so long,” Jaime replied. He’d purposefully looked at colleges in the El Paso area so he’d be with his family again. “Mi hermana was insistent that I stay near.”

“Stanford! I’veheardit’soneofthetopcollegesintheUSandIwantedtostayintheUScausetravellingacrossoceansistiringand-” 

“Whoa cariño, take a breath.” Jaime found it slightly endearing how excited Bart got talking about college.

“I still don’t understand why Gramps insisted I go to college. So not crash.”

And then he almost always complained about Barry insisting he further his education. Jaime just hoped there would be someone who’d be able to watch out for Bart. But Wally and Artemis were there, so maybe they’d be able to keep him out of trouble.

“Cassie?” Scott turned to the only female there.

“I’m not going to college,” Cassie admitted, “I’m helping my mom with her Antique shop.”   
“Your mom?”

“Yes, I have a mom Scott. Everyone does.”

Scott blushed deeply and looked away. It was like the thought had never occurred to him. Maybe it hadn’t, Jaime didn’t have mind-reading abilities. Despite the fact that Bart insisted he did, usually after Jaime gave him Chicken Whizzies randomly. 

“You’re gonna need this.” Stiles handed Scott the keys to his jeep. There were more than just the jeep keys on the ring however. “These are the keys for the jeep and copies of the keys for quite a few other places in Beacon Hills.”

“Stiles!” Scott exclaimed, pushing the keys back. “I can’t take your jeep! It was your Mom’s.”

“Dude, I have too many cars to choose from back at Gotham.”

“How are you going to get home?” 

“My brother works here. Besides, Derek’s picking me up. I might’ve lost my license in the Wild Hunt.”

Scott shook his head in amusement. Feeling as though they were starting to intrude on a private moment, Jaime gently led Bart and Cassie away. The two didn’t even seem to notice they left. Glancing back at the school, Jaime watched as his former classmates ran cheering from the school. A few stood on the sidewalk chatting, hugging, making plans to stay in touch.

“You guys ready to go?” Dick asked, standing besides the car door.

“Yeah.” Jaime looked back at Dick with a little grin. “I think we are.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: So, I’ve been thinking. There are a few scenes that didn’t make the cut (for multiple reasons) and I’m considering doing a… deleted scenes per say of this. It wouldn’t update regularly (not like I do anyways) but it’d add some scenes I had considered writing but just didn’t make it into this story. A few examples would be Bruce figuring out that Sheriff Stilinski isn’t real, Stiles scenes from Season 6, and stuff along those lines. If you’d like that let me know.
> 
> Review Request Here -- Cut me down, but it’s you who has further to fall, Ghost town, haunted love, Raise your voice, sticks and stones may break my bones, I’m talking loud. Not saying much.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: THIS IS THE LAST CHAPTER!! I already have another crossover story in the works right now, but it won’t be updated for a bit. I have a job now soooooo
> 
> Stiles: This chapter will have a few new characters (kinda) Damian and other surprises. Damian is thirteen.
> 
> Me: I’m adding in Lian Harper, who is the same age as Damian, however I’m doing some creative license on her character as I’ve done some research and she like always dies as a toddler(ish) except on one earth sooooooo…
> 
> Stiles: If anyone has questions about why Malia isn’t in this story…
> 
> Me: It’s simply because she originally didn’t fit well with the story and when she really had an important plot line in the show it didn’t fit. Besides, Cassie can take over her parts and (if I bring in Cass) she’ll simply take Malia’s place. Sorry all Malia fans.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t want them to know, the secrets. I don’t want them to know, the way I loved you. I don’t think they’d understand. I don’t think they would accept me, no.
> 
> 3rd Person POV

 

It was annoying, perhaps, that Damian was getting ‘forced’ to Beacon Hills. As a Robin he felt it was his duty not to leave Father without a partner in Gotham. While all the previous Robins before him had failed this duty, Todd and Brown the two most notable failures, Damian had not thought he’d ever fail. But he had, it seemed. On no fault of his own either, Father and his cousin had insisted that he ‘get to know’ kids ‘his age’, completely ignoring the fact that Damian was no child! Besides, their logic was flawed. None of the members on that group were his age, the closest was Bart Allen.  Yet even the speedster was, physically at least, fifteen. This left Damian at a disadvantage. His first task was making the group realize that he was, in fact, no weaker than them.

“Damian!” Father shouted from downstairs. “You need to go or else Jason and Dick will be leaving without you!”

Damian scowled and considered just refusing to leave. No, that would be childish and Damian was no child. Regardless of what Grayson and Father believed. All he needed to do was prove to them. But hadn’t he already done that? Proven that he was in no way a child to them. Perhaps not. It was possible they still saw him as a child. Despite him having killed people before.

“You okay?” The voice didn’t startle him, but it was unwelcome. Quickly Damian turned around, debating whether or not he should just attack despite knowing the person wasn’t going to attack him.

“What do you want Drake?” Damian snapped, lifting up his backpack. Already they had moved his clothes and other _necessities_ to the house, which meant he only had to pack _sentimentals_ that didn’t include Alfred the Cat or Batcow.

“Are you okay?” Drake repeated, as though Damian was stupid and hadn’t heard it the first time.

“I’m fine, Drake. Why do you care?”

Drake was silent for a few moments. Was it just Damian’s imagination, or did Drake look conflicted and perhaps even guilty. Narrowing his eyes, Damian hiked his backpack higher up and glanced back at where Alfred the Cat was on his bed. Maybe the cat would understand Drake’s actions better than him.

“Do you really think I don’t care about you?” Drake finally broke the silence.

“Tt, you certainly act like it Drake. Now you’re blocking my way.” Damian forced himself by Drake, allowing the sheath of his katana to bump Drake in the leg.

“I do care.”

“What?” Damian snapped, turning around.

“It may not seem like it, but I do care about you Damian.”

Drake was gone before Damian could retort. Now conflicted himself, Damian made his way down to the Cave. The only ones in there were Todd and Grayson, Father nowhere to be seen. There was an odd feeling in his chest, akin to disappointment. Swallowing down the lump in his throat, Damian moved towards the elder two. Only Grayson looked up, Todd at his side cleaning one of his guns. Tt, coward.

“You ready? Said your goodbyes?” Grayson asked.

“Tt.”

“I’ll take that as a yes. Come on Shrimp, let’s go.” Todd got to his feet, gun now back in his holster. “Did Bruce clear Titus for coming?”

“Titus is coming or I’m not,” Damian snapped.

The older two shared a look that Damian could easily decode as them talking silently. As of yet he hadn’t completely figured out what each of the subtle changes of expression meant. Much less being able to decode it. This frustrated Damian to no end.   
“Fine, let’s go,” Todd decided.

Gently squeezing his backpack strap, reaching down to grip Titus’ collar, Damian made his way to the Zeta Tube. The Tube scanned him, and Titus, before sending him towards the disgusting bathroom in Hub City. His nose wrinkled in disgust, stepping out of the bathroom. Obviously the Justice League wasn’t thinking when they made a Zeta Tube here. Even Titus hated it, lifting his leg up to pee on the toilet like a fire hydrant. Damian stepped out of the stall, Titus trotting after him.

Outside the rest of, Damian hesitated to call them heroes, the group already stood. As the only new member, Damian felt a little out of the loop. There was Wonder Girl, aka Cassie Sandsmark wearing a (Damian believed they were called) crop top with highwaisted shorts. There were golden sandals on her feet that reminded Damian of Roman gladiator sandals. Standing on her other side was Blue Beetle, aka Jaime Reyes. There was nothing special about his outfit, wearing a regular blue t-shirt and a pair of faded jeans with flip flops. Lastly was Impulse, aka Bart Allen. His shirt made Damian scoff internally, as it was yellow with the red and white Flash symbol, with a pair of cargo shorts and a pair of sneakers. This was the group he was supposed to be working with? Pathetic. Did Father really see him so lowly?

“You’re Damian right? Robin?” Cassie asked.

“Tt, you’ve met me before, Sandsmark,” Damian replied.

“Over video chat.”

“You brought su perro.”

“Excellent observation Reyes.”

Behind him, Grayson tutted disapprovingly. Damian shrunk underneath the hand that rested on his shoulder, even if it was friendly.

“Be nice Dami,” Grayson murmured to him.

“Tt, they’re all imbeciles. Father could have chosen someone else to take Stilinski’s place,” Damian growled.

“He could’ve, but he didn’t trust anyone else.”

Damian scoffed, pulling up the hood of his sweatshirt. It adequately covered his face. While it might’ve been too warm to wear this kind of outfit, Damian was used to being uncomfortable. This was nothing compared to the inadequate clothing he had to wear in weather worse than this. Perhaps he was, as Grayson would say, being antisocial. There was no need for friends in his opinion, Jon was adequate enough in that regards. Adequate, perhaps Jon was more of an acquaintance. Definitely not anything more than a friend.

“Alright, kiddos let’s get going. Inside you go.” Todd had returned with a minivan, smaller than the van Father had back in Gotham. Not that Father would ever admit to owning a van. “Hurry up, we don’t have all day.”

With a tut, Damian allowed Reyes and Allen to enter the minivan first, climbing into the back. Then Sandsmark followed. The other three were only the welcoming party for Damian. As the days went on the three would be leaving for college, Sandsmark helping her mother in the antique shop rather than further her education. Soon Jon would be joining them, once the elder Kent allowed him out of his sight. There was the possibility of two more heroes coming, however Damian hadn’t heard anything else about them.

“Hey, hey!” Allen leaned over Damian, ignoring the irritated tut and angry hand in his direction. “I’m hungry!”  
“You’re always hungry Bart,” Sandsmark replied, however the way she said it seemed almost affectionate rather than exasperated.

“Hey! A speedsters gotta eat!” Allen moved again, Damian glaring up at him angrily, practically all the way over the seat.  
“SEATBELT CHECK!” Todd shouted.

Allen was suddenly gone and Todd slammed on the breaks. Everyone grunted as they were thrown forward in their seats, seat belts keeping them all from flying out of their seats. With a growl Damian leaned forward to flick the back of Todd’s ear. However Grayson twisted around in his seat and pointed a finger at Damian. Damian growled a little and slumped back in his seat, tugging his hood further over his head and slumping down in his seat.  
“Allaenat lak,” Damian grumbled.

“Lughat Damian,” Todd replied without looking over at Damian.

A flush covered Damian’s face. He had forgotten that Todd once trained with his mother and was probably fluent. That meant that, unlike Father who was rusty, Damian couldn’t slip anything past Todd. As he slumped down in his seat, as much as he could do with a seatbelt on, Damian kept his hood far over his head.

“Hey Dami.” Damian flushed a darker red at the nickname. While he seriously doubted Grayson knew what it meant, Damian did. “Who is Robin while you’re here.”

“Only the best of the best.” Damian quickly put on his best poker face, trying not to be embarrassed by his nickname.

“Ah. Do I know them?”

“Probably not.”

“Who is it?”

“Does it matter?”

“Oooooooooooooooh, you’re embarrassed!” Suddenly Allen’s face was right by his.

“Come on hermano, it can’t be that embarrassing,” Reyes prodded.

“Maps…” Damian mumbled under his breath. Grayson and Todd would immediately know who that was.   
“Mizoguchi? Mia Mizoguchi?!” Grayson cried out in surprise.

“Yeah.”  
Before Grayson could grill him anymore, Todd pulled up to the house. While Stilinski had given him permission to use his room, Damian wasn’t planning to take him up on the offer. While he tended to resent both Stilinski and Drake, for their blemishes on the Robin name, he was not about to ruin the name of Shadowfox or impede on his room. Not that he didn’t do that enough at the Manor.

“So what name are you going by?” Sandsmark asked neutrally.

“Redbird,” Damian growled.

Todd chuckled, “Tayir ahmur.”

“Shut it Todd.”

“Make me Short Stack.”  
“Jason,” Grayson sighed, “Don’t antagonize him.”

“But he makes it so easy.”

Damian did not make it easy. No one could make him mad. Unless they were underestimating him. Todd was just childish and Damian had to put him in his place. It was only fitting. With Todd as an immature adult and Damian as a mature… child. No. He was not a child. Damian would not stoop to Todd’s level. He would not be immature. That was not how he was raised.

“Alright. Jaime, go help Damian unpack. Bart… go find Scott and the others. We need to have a pack meeting and formally introduce Damian. You know how they can get with newcomers. Especially Liam. Cassie go find the girls, I doubt they’re with the others,” Todd ordered.

Something ugly churned inside Damian’s chest. It didn’t feel good. The ugly churning wasn’t unusual; a mix of jealousy, anxiety, with a sprinkle of unease. Despite prior thoughts, it really seemed like they didn’t need him here. But that was false, Damian was better than all of them. Especially that beetle attached to the back of Reyes’ back. Perhaps his feelings were clearly seen on his face, as Grayson came up behind him and squeezed his shoulder.

“Pack meetings aren’t that bad Little D. They’re more like a familial gathering,” Grayson tried to soothe.

“Familial gatherings?” Damian couldn’t picture it. The closest he’d come to a familial gathering was the family portrait, the most recent one with Todd and Stilinski in it.

“Relaxed, fun, and lots of food. Nothing like the meetings you’ve probably experienced.” Grayson gently nudged his shoulder, urging him towards where Reyes stood.

With a scowl firmly in place, Damian trudged upstairs after Reyes. At least he seemed to understand that Damian wasn’t going to take Stilinski’s room. That would be… improper. An insult to his cousin. Probably one of the few people, besides Grayson and Father, whom he tolerated and admired. Mostly for Stilinski’s thing against authority figures, something that Damian didn’t fully understand but he admired it nonetheless.

“So, unless you take Fox’s habitación, this will be your room for the… however long of tiempo you stay here.” Damian translated Reyes’ words as he said them, room and time.

“Not very long,” Damian replied snippily, stepping by Reyes.

“That’s what we all thought, hermano.”

Reyes didn’t touch him on the shoulder, as Grayson or Todd would have, instead he walked towards his room. At least that’s what Damian believed it to be, for all he knew it could be Allen’s room. Wasn’t that a terrifying thought? Damian hoped these rooms were soundproofed. There were a few sounds that he preferred never to hear.

The room was fairly simple, not the Damian would change it much. There was a bed in the middle, white cover and a few pillows on top. At the foot of the bed was a simple plush bench, a duffle bag filled with a few of his things on top of it. A little to the side, in front of a window, a black desk stood, a desk chair pulled out with a box on it. Damian’s laptop was closed on top of the desk, nothing else around it. By his bed there was a small table with a lamp and a drawer. No decorations were hung up or put around the room, leaving it relatively bare.

Damian threw his backpack on the bed, feeling the ugly churn return. All he wanted to do was return to Gotham, return to his Robin name and leave Redbird behind. As much as he distrusted the people here, he wasn’t sure how Maps would do with the Robin name. While she had proven herself fairly inquisitive and very courageous, Robin was more than that. Would she be able to stand the pressure? How would she do with knowing that she was only the second Robin to ever be female, if Brown even counted. Robin for a week?

It was quick, mindless, work unpacking. Everything had their place, to stay. A few weapons decorated the walls, ones that would get him curious looks but no one would be too concerned. The ones that would garner him concerned looks or even get him sent to the police station hidden ended up underneath the loose floorboards. Not the most secretive place but the quickest he could do now.

“Packshere.” Allen was in and out so quickly Damian barely even noticed he was there.

As Damian made his way downstairs, it was clear he was the last to know. Everyone was already sitting around, clearly positioned based off of their rankings. Both Todd and Grayson stood around McCall, a place left beside McCall for the absent Hale and Stilinski. It was an obvious gap that seemed to offset everything else. Dunbar was seated right beside McCall, being the only bitten beta of the pack. The others were strewn around, Allen and Reyes on the couches with Sandsmark on the back of the same couch. Unsure where to sit, Damian sat down in an armchair and pulled his hood back up, hunching over.

“Everyone’s here,” Grayson said, nudging McCall.

“Oh, right. Guys, that’s Damian. He’s Stiles’ cousin and younger brother. A past Robin. He’s part of the pack so no attacking… please.”

Damian snorted. As if any of these imbeciles could hurt him. They would be put down within seconds. Dunbar snarled at him and Damian just smirked. This would be too easy. However he quieted when Grayson glared at him.

“He goes by Redbird now.” It was better with Grayson leading this… meeting. McCall had no sense on how to be a leader.

“Why?” Martin demanded.

“That was the alias I went by on the rare times I wasn’t Robin.” Damian wanted this meeting over with.

No one spoke for a bit, which made Damian smirk internally. So none of them could figure out how to digest that information. Good, he could use their incompetence to his advantage. Not that he needed much of an advantage over them.

“Scott, Liam, why don’t you two tell us what happened?” Todd asked. It was the softest Damian had ever seen the Red Hood.

“A wolf came on the field,” Dunbar immediately spoke. It amused Damian how much he was trying to act like he was in charge. “It was growling and when it left it started to shed spiders out of its eyes. It looked dead…”

“It probably was.” Damian wasn’t going to sugarcoat things for them.

“Damian!” Todd snapped, Grayson’s eyes narrowing.

Damian just hunched in the armchair, tugging his hood over his eyes. If they didn’t want his input, far superior than anyone else’s, he wouldn’t waste his breath. After a few moments, he pulled out his phone and started texting Jon. He pretended not to hear the angry noises they all emitted at his immediate dismissal of them.

**To BabySuper:**

**Is Kent allowing you to come?**

**From BabySuper:**

**mom made him theyre not happy about it but u dont argue with batman**

**To BabySuper:**

**Good, you’re more acceptable than these imbeciles. Even if your texting is atrocious.**

**From BabySuper:**

**that a compliment dami???**

Damian didn’t respond, flushing at the nickname. There was no way that Jon knew what that meant, especially when it came to customs. However it didn’t stop the embarrassment flooding his veins and the way his cheeks heated up. This was a weakness so he covered his face with the hoodie, making sure that the shadows would cover any hint of the flush on his face.

“Cassie, check the sewers with Mason and Liam. The rest of you, pack for college. This doesn’t change anything about you guys leaving, okay? That means you Scott, you can’t afford missing registration,” Todd ordered. “Cassie can miss a day, Mrs. Sandsmark can wait.”

“I don’t think she’ll agree, but okay,” Sandsmark replied, pulling out her phone to quickly text her Mother.

“Think that’s the end of the meeting. Get home you rascals.”

It was, refreshing to have the others leave. Even Sandsmark followed Dunbar and Hewitt out after the young beta and his human friend had hung around for a bit, clearly waiting for her. With a scoff Damian got up, only stopping short when Grayson grabbed his bicep. Both Allen and Reyes disappeared upstairs, the rest of the pack leaving the house.  
“You need to stop Damian,” Todd growled at him. “Kunt tatasaraf mithl tifl.”

“How dare you?!” Damian roared, lunging at Todd but Grayson kept him back. This was a crime of the worst levels, calling him a child. “'iihanat li fi lisan walidati!”

“It wasn’t an insult.” Todd ran his fingers through his hair before pointing at Grayson. “You deal with the Demon Spawn. I’m going to bed.”

**_********BATWOLF*******_ **

At school, Damian endured the overzealous hug from Jon. It was their first day of seeing each other in a long time. Sandsmark had dropped him off, as Grayson had been required to come in earlier and Todd had prior commitments at Eichen House. Despite his angry words about how he could drive himself, they were insistent that one of the others take him. Apparently he had to have a license, despite him being able to drive better than Sandsmark.

“Damian! I’ve missed you!!”

“Jon, you’re going to break my ribs.” Damian growled.

“Sorry, sorry.”

“We have Grayson’s class first. I believe we have the same schedule.”

Jon reached around into his backpack, overstuffed despite it only being their first day. As he opened it papers and books fell out, creating a mess of the floor. Older kids snickered and a few looked at them with sympathy. Damian’s nostrils flared and he shifted, reaching for his hidden knife. Even he could tell that Jon was embarrassed, a misfortune for the kids making him embarrassed.

“Damian no!” Jon exclaimed, jumping up (causing more items to fall from his open bag). “Don’t hurt them…”

“Fine,” Damian snapped.

They quickly cleaned up the mess, Damian reorganizing Jon’s bag before zipping it up. This way the incident wouldn’t happen again. There would be no kids hurting Jon, Damian would not allow it. It would be their doom. Not even Jon would be able to hold him back from getting revenge.

“Yeah, got Nightwing,” Jon announced to him.

“Grayson. He’s Grayson here Jon. Don’t call us by our code names,” Damian hissed to him.

“Sorry Damian,” Jon ducked his head in embarrassment, rubbing the back of his neck.

“You’ll jeopardize the mission if you call us by the wrong names. Surely you understand that.”  
“I already told you I’m sorry.”

“I know.”

Damian felt a little guilty, Jon was glaring at him. It would be no use getting Jon on his bad side. He’d already turned everyone else against him. With a soft sigh he nudged Jon’s hip, trying to convey the apology without words. It seemed it worked as Jon smiled shyly up at him. If they weren’t in public, in a high school no less, Jon would’ve flown up to give him a tight hug. But they were in public.

Grayson looked up when they entered, flashing a smile when Jon eagerly waved at him. The two sat in their desks, right beside each other. It wasn’t assigned seating, Grayson didn’t believe in that. As kids entered Damian gripped his pencil tightly. They snickered when they saw Jon and a few kicked his backpack.

“Damian,” Jon whispered, noticing the grip on the pencil tightening.

“What?” He demanded.

Jon flicked his eyes up to Grayson, Damian followed his line of sight. While it looked like Grayson was simply writing a note, not paying attention, Damian could tell that he was jotting down everyone who was physically attacking Jon or destroying his property. Then he cleared his throat and stood, four detention slips in his hand. He passed them out quietly and returned to his desk.

“You’ll find that I have a zero tolerance for bullying.” Grayson announced. “This is your first and only warning. After that I will simply kick you out of my class and you will never be allowed back inside. Ever. If your parents ask, I have surveillance cameras all over my room.  I’ll simply show them the video. If it’s bad enough, I can easily get you suspended or even expelled. I’ve had students before that tested this, would you like their numbers?”

Everyone was silent. Some in anger, others in awe, and some like Damian that were smirking inwardly. That was the Grayson Damian knew. No tolerance for anything that he considered inappropriate. Speaking of, Grayson continued.

“Sexist comments or behaviors will get you suspended immediately, be it by any gender. Inappropriate clothing, be it style or wording, will get you sent to the office. If the girls can’t show it the boys can’t either and vice versa. Are we clear?” Everyone nodded. “Good, if you can’t handle these rules I suggest you leave now.” No one moved, even if a few looked angry and some even gripped their bags. But no one left.

Grayson smirked a little, nodding some. Underneath the desks, Jon and Damian fistbumped. This was a win, in their eyes. That meant no one was going to mess with them, at least not in Grayson’s classroom. Outside of it, who knows what will happen. They might get sneakier, but unless they went to League of Assassin’s child ninja level they’d never get past Grayson.

“Now, what do you know of Shakespeare…?”

Class was boring and completely unnecessary. Damian knew all of this, knew most of it was false as well. In fact, most theories about the Shakespearean writings were correct but most scholars were wrong. Why anyone thought that scholars were the smartest was a mystery to Damian.

“RATS!!” a girl screeched.

All the other kids clambered onto the seats, Grayson blinked in surprise. Instead of getting on his seat Damian reached down and grabbed one by it’s tail. It screeched angrily and went to attack Damian. A girl screamed at him and Grayson tried to get the kids to calm down. At the commotion over him grabbing a rat Damian dropped it to the ground. It immediately skittered after the rest and went through the vents.

“Calm down!” Grayson shouted.

The class froze, all of them but Damian on the seats. Even Jon was. At the unimpressed look Jon just shrugged, squatting down on the seat. Everyone slowly sat back down, a few girls still holding their feet up (and a few guys but they were more subtle about it). Damian wrinkled his nose and sat back down, silently accepting the hand sanitizer Grayson sat on his desk.

“I’m going to call the office and find out what just happened. You all stay quiet.” Grayson walked back to his desk, punching in a number and talking quietly to the person on the other side.

It was later in the day that Damian and Jon got to do anything. Dunbar and Hewitt, at Hewitt’s insistence it seemed, came to get them. It was like they were trying to show them how things worked. There was the question as to why they felt the need and why the older heroes weren’t doing this instead of the still relatively new kids.

“We’re going to the hospital,” Dunbar announced.

“Why?” Damian demanded.

“Melissa is there,” Hewitt explained.

“What does that have to do with anything?” Jon asked, floating upside down besides Damian.

“She can examine this!” A white paper bag was shoved in Jon’s face.

“A dead rat?” Damian demanded.

“Well… yeah?”

“Why? It’s dead. Didn’t Sandsmark tell you what happened.”  
“Well yes, but…”

Hewitt shut up at a look from Dunbar. Lips twitching, Damian walked away from the two. Like he expected, Jon followed in the air. Disgruntled by the height difference Damian tugged Jon down so he was on the ground like everyone else. There was a yelp of surprise, not pain since Jon was invulnerable, and he silently started following Damian. Both Dunbar and Hewitt ran to catch up with them.

“Aren’t you guys coming?” Dunbar demanded.

“Why should we?” Damian asked, turning around.

He was a head shorter than Dunbar, but somehow it seemed that Dunbar was started by the snarl on his face. The older boy took a step backwards and ran into Hewitt. A hand rested on Damian’s shoulder and he turned to look at Jon. Blue eyes were wide and urgent, begging him not to pick a fight. A soft sigh escaped Damian’s lips.

“Fine.” He growled. “Let’s go.”

Jon did a pleased flip in the air, but quickly landed at a glare from Damian. It seemed Dunbar acquired a license. While Damian was unsure just how safe he was, there wasn’t much of a choice. Of course he could find his own way, but this wasn’t Gotham. If he got caught Grayson and Father would be disappointed in him. So would Stilinski, possibly to a lesser extent. That meant he was stuck with Dunbar.

There was slight comfort in the form of Jon, his only friend here. If Dunbar’s driving grew any worse, not that Damian was sure it could, Damian would simply take over. A child could drive better than Dunbar. Even Jon seemed apprehensive. The trip couldn’t be over sooner.

“Come on, we’re here.” Dunbar announced, grabbing the white plastic bag from the seat.

“I’m driving on the way back,” Damian announced, slipping out of the car with a nose wrinkle.

“Yeah, no.”

“How you ever managed to acquire a license is beyond me.”

A low growl escaped Dunbar’s throat, fists clenching. This didn’t phase Damian, he knew of the elder’s lack of control. The information was given to him in hopes he wouldn’t antagonize Dunbar. Frankly Damian figured that it was a weakness to have such little control. It was another thing he’d need to rectify while he was still in Beacon Hills.

“Your lack of control is perturbing.” Damian brushed past the beta, dodging the clawed hand reaching out for him. “Come on Jon.”

Jon floated up beside him. “Should you be antagonizing him?”

“Perhaps not, but he needs to learn control.”

“And antagonizing him will help?”

“Maybe. Father and my brothers would look down on the other methods I’d suggest.”

As expected, Jon grew silent. Behind him there were rushed footsteps, those of Hewitt and Dunbar. The elder’s stood beside them, a scowl on Dunbar’s face. Damian let out a soft tut, knowing that Dunbar could hear him. The scowl grew.

As they entered the hospital a dark haired woman, McCall’s mother, strode up to them. At first she didn’t notice the white plastic bag in Hewitt’s hand. However when she did her eyes seemed to light up. Damian immediately knew that she assumed the best and was possibly naive.

“Dinner?” She took the bag even as Dunbar and Hewitt went to correct her. “Oh, that’s definitely not dinner.”

“Yeah, uh, about that. We were hoping…” Dunbar went quiet as she raised her hand, shoving the plastic bag into Hewitt’s awaiting hands.

“No. I’m busy, if you can’t tell by the waiting room.” The others all turned to look at the room behind them. “Just once, I’d like you guys to bring me dinner. Not some mutilated something or another. A nice burger.”

“I can-!” Damian rested a hand on Jon’s shoulder, shushing him successfully.

“I’m assuming this is Jon?” Melissa blew a strand of her hair out of her face. “It’s nice to meet you.” Her next sentence was broad to all of them. “I’ll see you later.”

“But-” Dunbar was cut off.

“Later. Now if you’re not injured, get out of the hospital.” She strode away.

Two men began to fight as they were leaving. Before Damian could stop him, Dunbar got between the two. One of the men landed a solid hit, the sound reaching Damian’s ears. Flesh on flesh. Everything went wrong. Dunbar’s eyes flashed gold, fangs elongating. Claws dug into the palms of his hand, drawing blood.

“Damian!” Jon exclaimed. “He’s losing control!”

“I’ve got it. You do damage control.” Damian ordered, running after Dunbar as the older fled.

Someone was following them. Damian noticed it as Dunbar started his mantra. Instead of following Dunbar into the elevator, Damian turned a corner. The elevator doors closed and a man stood there, mangy and with an otherworldly feel to him. Silently Damian unsheathed his katana, which was hidden beneath his hoodie. It was a collapsible katana, easily hidden but strong enough to cut through most metals when fully extended.

“Arggggh!” Damian lept out from his hiding place, swinging down with his katana.

Orange eyes turned to face him, body beginning to burn. Damian’s eyes widened as he twisted, katana turning to slice through the body of what he determined to be a hellhound. The flames danced at Damian’s skin as his katana connected. It shattered at contact. At the force of the impact, Damian was forced away. He rolled and came up at a crouch. But he was too slow, a hand coming down hard on the back of his head, and everything went black.

“-ian! Damian!” He came too at a familiar voice, soft hands slapping his cheeks. “Come on. Wake up kiddo. Jon stop hovering over my shoulder. You’re not helping. Damian!”

His eyes flickered open, blinking at the blurry figure above him. There was a mane of dark curly hair and the familiar face of Jon. It took a few moments for him to remember the woman above him. This was Ms. McCall, one of the better equipped adults in this sad excuse for a town.

“There you go sweetheart. Can you tell me what today is?”

“Don’t call me sweetheart,” Damian grouched, “I could kill you with my pinky.”  
“I’m sure you could, but humor me.”

“It’s the last day I let someone best me.” Damian went to sit up but Jon forced him back down.

“You have a concussion Dami!” Jon exclaimed, crouching beside him.  
“I’ve had worse, let me up. Where’s Dunbar and Hewitt?”

“They’ve left and forgot the rat.” Ms. McCall didn’t sound pleased.

A scoff passed by Damian’s lips, even as he avoided Jon pushing him back down to the ground. After a cursory scan around him, Damian decided that someone (possibly Jon) had cleaned up his broken pieces of his katana. All he could find was the hilt, still by his side. Scowling he picked it up, tucking the hilt into the sheath.

“The Hound was after Dunbar.”  
“We know. He’s in the morgue.” Ms. McCall added.

“But…” Jon bit down on his lip.

There was something Jon was hiding, but Damian wasn’t going to push. This conversation would need to wait for home. Certain things needed to stay between them rather than adults. Adults always messed things up, especially incompetent ones.

“Then we return home,” Damian replied evenly. “Jon?”  
“Jason’s on his way…”   
“Todd will take to long.”

Jon deflated with a nod, allowing Damian to lead him out. Ms McCall called after them but they continued anyways. A quick flight towards the household of the resident Alpha, aka the younger and more incompetent McCall.

“Upstairs,” Jon informed him.

Somehow they managed their way up the stairs without alerting the three supernatural adults. It wasn’t like Jon floated Damian up. He took the stairs. Honestly, it was impressive that they weren’t dead yet. In fact the only reason they were was probably because of Stilinski. His cousin had always been more competent than the rest of the pack, perhaps with the exception of Grayson.

Voices came from the bedroom, an argument of sorts. Each voice was one that Damian knew. But there were none of the adults, no Todd or Grayson. This was solely the kids; McCall, Martin, Reyes, Allen, and Sandsmark. The original pack, with the exceptions of a few members that had left or died.

“We almost lost him,” Martin argued, “We can’t bring him back.”  
“You know he won’t agree hermana.” There was weight, exhaustion, in Reyes’ voice. “If he even gets a whiff of problemas here, he’ll be back in a santiamén.”

“He’ll be pissed if we don’t tell him.” McCall agreed.

“If this turns out big, he’s not going to be happy,” Sandsmark said.

“You’ve been awfully quiet cariño, what do you think?” There was a few shifts on the bed, the others clearly turning to look at Allen.

For a few minutes there was silence and Damian debated revealing himself. Jon was beginning to be twitchy by his side. The only reason Jon hadn’t jumped in immediately was because Damian hadn’t. No sense in ruining whatever plan Damian had in mind.

“I think that the future is already changed. In my future…” There was silence, then a deep breath. “In my future you didn’t call Stiles.”

“Then that settles it. Stiles stays out of this,” McCall decided.

“Possibly the worst decision you’ve made, which says a lot,” Damian announced himself, leaning against the doorway.

It was entertaining to watch them all jump in surprise. The corners of his lips twitched in veiled amusement. None of them thought to be aware of their surroundings. This was supposed to be a safe place. Nowhere was safe.

“Damian!” McCall suddenly exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”  
“Learning more about your idiocy,” Damian replied evenly.

Jon slowly peeked over his shoulder sheepishly. Nobody seemed as bothered by his appearance as they were with Damian’s. A pity too as it meant Damian was getting predictable, Jon by his side constantly. He’d have to fix that. Staring at them Damian leaned against the wall. While he seemed relax he was ready to move the moment it was required.

“What do you mean?” Martin demanded.

“A new threat has arrived and you’re ready to keep one of your strongest in the dark.” Damian’s eyebrows rose. “Even if you’re not ready to call him back in, keep him in the loop. At least then he’s informed.”

“But we have you…” McCall replied weakly.

“I’m completely different then my cousin. As much as I abhor admitting this, I’m nothing but a liability. The land and your fighting skills are new and I have yet to adjust. If a threat proved great I could be more a hindrance than a help.”

“That doesn’t, shouldn’t, change anything. We can practice with you, get you to know our moves and learn your moves,” Martin, ever the strategist, replied.

Scoffing at them, Damian pushed off the wall. This was a mistake that he’d have to rectify. Without a look at Jon, he went down the stairs and outside. A second later Jon joined him. They needed to debrief back at Stilinski’s childhood home.

**_******BATWOLF******_ **

“Why are we here?” Jon asked, looking over at Damian.

It was the two of them sitting alone on the bleachers. On the field was Dunbar and Bryant, with another werewolf that Damian knew from his debriefings. Brett Talbot, who would’ve been a great member of the pack if it weren’t for him being part of a different one. Maybe if Brett joined them the pack would be competent.

“We’re supposed to get to know the pack,” Lian Harper, aka Speedy, replied, relaxing against the bleacher behind her.

It had taken some negotiations with the elder Harper and Todd to convince him to allow Lian to join them on this mission. Lian was adequate, having Cheshire as a mother and Arsenal as a father allowed her to be nearly at Damian’s skill level. Obviously she would never be able to reach his level of skill, but she was adequate. Much better than most others in the pack.

“Why?” Jon whined, flopping across Damian’s lap.

Unceremoniously Damian pushed him off, “Grayson and Father told us to. Besides, Stilinski insists that the pack will call once they need him and we must take time to get to know them.”

“There’s so much testosterone here,” Lian complained.

“You live with a single father,” Jon reminded her.

“Yeah but there’s not as many,” she shuddered for emphasis, “hormones.”

The trio lapsed into silence, watching the practice go on. It allowed them to watch the practice in piece. There was a flare of pride inside Damian when Talbot egged Dunbar on, he was right about Dunbar’s lack of control. Even from where he was positioned on the bleachers he could see the gold eyes and the claws poking through his gloves. On either side of him Lian and Jon tensed, ready to fight if necessary. However Damian stayed still, watching Dunbar unconcerned.

“Talbot has it under control,” Damian murmured to them, “unlike the Hale-McCall pack.”

“Are you sure?” Jon demanded.

“He’s right… kind of,” Lian admitted. “Look.”

On the field, Talbot was in Dunbar’s face. There was the gold gleam in Dunbar’s eyes, but Talbot was completely under control. Then Liam seemed to calm, or was shocked into gaining control, by something Talbot said. There was movement by the end of the field, catching Damian’s eyes.

As he turned to look he noticed the guidance counselor. In her hands was the ball, the very same one that Dunbar had cut his claws into. Then she was looking at the field.

“Badha’a,” Damian cursed, fingers curling into a tight fist.

His eyes followed where she was looking. As he moved his head he noticed that Talbot was using his werewolf strength on the field, making a shot. While Bryant caught the ball it knocked him down onto the ground. No human could do that. Monroe, the guidance counselor, was gone now. This would be an issue. Another, incompetent, hunter would be around. While incompetent, she could prove to be an issue.

“Shit.” Lian slipped off the bleacher, watching as Dunbar run into the locker room. “He’s going to lose control.”

“Do we go after him?” Jon asked Damian.

Lian was already running into the boys locker room. With a muttered curse in Arabic, equivalent to saying son of a bitch, Damian raced after her. So much for keeping a low profile. Though that had been thrown at the window a long time ago.

Then he skidded to a halt, Lian frozen in the doorway. It seemed Dunbar had lost control momentarily, as there was a dent on the door. An unamused tut escaped Damian’s lips as he forced his way past Lian. All fight had drained out of Dunbar, though he seemed terrified of himself. Surely Stilinski or McCall, or perhaps even Hale, would have taught him otherwise. Perhaps it had something to do with them leaving? Damian would have to interrogate his family to get answers.

Footsteps started down the hallway, startling Dunbar and he ripped the door of his locker. Behind Lian and Damian, Jon winced. That would’ve easily been fixable if Dunbar hadn’t ripped it off. Then Hewitt and Bryant round the corner, both freezing in shock at the sight of Lian, before rushing past them into the locker room.

“We were looking for you everywhere!” Hewitt exclaimed, grasping Dunbar’s shoulders tightly.

“Were you bleeding?” Bryant asked softly, looking over Dunbar’s shoulder.

“What, no?” Dunbar turned to look where Bryant was.

Subtly, Damian drew out his katana. Blood meant there might be an attacker nearby. At the same time he put a domino mask on his face. It would at least protect his identity. There wouldn’t be time to change into his uniform. Following his lead Lian pulled out her collapsible crossbow, that had been hidden underneath her jacket, and shook it into position. Then she grabbed the bolts from her boots. Jon handed her a domino mask as he took off his oversized shirt to reveal his superboy hoodie underneath. Maybe he should take a hint from Kon and wear a t-shirt instead.

“What are you guys-?” Damian cut Hewitt off.

“Lian, what’re you going by?”

“Quarrel.” She put on the domino mask and pulled her dark auburn hair up into a ponytail.

A fighters name it is. Though quarrel’s are usually just arguments. However if Damian remembered correctly a quarrel would also be an old french name for an arrow. Maybe that was Lian’s reasoning behind the name. It didn’t matter, however, as the imbeciles in front of him had begun to move. With a huff he followed.

“Oh, that’s disgusting!” Hewitt exclaimed.

Bryant and Dunbar turned a shade of green, Damian pushing past them. There was no way it could be that bad. On the ground of the shower stalls he froze and stared. A human shaped blob, no noticeable features. How could this have happened? It was all muscle. Jon wrinkled his nose and looked away, Lian covering her mouth in horror.

“That’s gross,” Damian commented and knelt besides the humanoid figure.

Using his Katana he cut off a piece of the muscle, slipping it into a test tube. They’d analyze it back in the Basement. Until then it would stay in his utility belt. Behind them Hewitt, Bryant, and Dunbar were running through names of the Lacrosse Team. However Damian couldn’t understand why they immediately assumed it was one of the Lacrosse members. It could be anyone.

“Aaron, anyone seen Aaron?” Dunbar asked.

“Call him,” Lian suggested reasonably.

“Good idea.” Hewitt pulled out his phone and dialed.

There was no answer. They tried this a few times as Damian continued to take samples of the Blob. Perhaps giving it the name Bob would make him feel better about staring at the Blob, but it was only a Blob. This was no longer a human. Not anymore. Maybe it wasn’t one in the first place. However he couldn’t repeat his thoughts to the others.

“Go look if you’re so concerned,” Damian finally snapped, standing up. “Or we could get the facts and avoid looking for a dead, or alive, person.”

“If it is Aaron there’s no reason to look for him cause he’s dead. If Aaron is alive there’s no reason to look for him because he’s not dead, he’s safe,” Lian added.

“All you’ll do is risk losing the only clues you’ll have.” Damian wasn’t going to sugarcoat it. “There’s no point in leaving so help me take this body home.”

They stared at him, Jon blinking a little before shrugging and kneeling down. Damian cut off another sample before pulling out a plastic bag. It was big enough to hold a human body. With a few shakes it was completely open, allowing those with super strength to put the body in the bag. Then he had Jon carry it.

**_*********BATWOLF********_ **

It was at Damian’s reluctance that he was part of this meeting. All but Sandsmark, who had returned to her Mother’s antique shop, Hale and Stilinski were there. This made it feel like his own position was unimportant. They had four superheroes, including Nightwing and Red Hood, already. What was the point of his own trio if the others would undermind him anyways.

“Talbot’s missing. Probably since the lacrosse practice last night,” Grayson sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. “And none of you noticed?”

“We were a bit startled by the lump on the ground,” Hewitt defended.

“There were six of you there that night!”

“All six of us were in the locker room,” Damian informed in disgust. “If Bryant and Hewitt hadn’t gone after Dunbar none of this would’ve happened.”

“Hey! You can’t blame us!” Bryant exclaimed.

“QUIET!” Lydia shouted, glaring at them.

“This is pointless.” Damian stormed out.

Despite their obvious reluctance both Lian and Jon followed. It was humiliating that they had been lumped with the ‘psychic’ and two pathetic teenagers. The better option would’ve been out with Hood and the two (three) werewolves. Even if the blonde girl could barely be classified as that. She was a hindrance.

“Think you can trace Talbot?” Damian asked Jon.  
“Wasn’t that what…?” Jon was cut off.

“Can you?”

Weakly Jon shrugged, looking a bit startled at the question and the insistence on it. Maybe if they got to Talbot first it would prove that they could do it themselves. They wouldn’t need Reyes or Allen. Or any of the other superheroes. His fingers tightened around the katana on his hip. Already they were changed.

He had to admit that Lian’s Quarrel costume was functionable with some flare. It was hard to admit especially considering who her father and his mentor was. However from what he understood the Outlaw’s were more of her mentors then Green Arrow was. The colors also complimented both him and Jon, which was more aesthetically pleasing than anything.

It was hooded tunic, dark blue hem, that went to slightly above mid thigh. There was a belt around her waist that held some knives and other weapons (including a refill on arrows). Underneath the tunic was a long sleeved kevlar black shirt. There were leather gloves on both hands, mostly for the bow then anything else. Her pants were the same color blue as her hem, with some black strips winding down like ballet slippers till it hit the mid-calf high black boots. Lastly she had a lower face mask, that also covered her neck. She didn’t wear a domino mask like Damian did. All of it was kevlar, at Harper and Todd’s insistence.

“So, what’s the plan exactly?” Lian demanded with a raised eyebrow.

“You can pick out heartbeats right? I know your powers are stronger than even Superman.” Damian looked over at Jon.

“Yeah, but it's easier if I know them well.” Jon shifted nervously and looked till Lian.  
“Werewolves are different right. His heart rate will be elevated, erratic due to pain. Try to listen for breathing and sounds around him as well. It’ll be easier to pinpoint him.”

Jon nodded and closed his eyes. Both Lian and Damian went quiet, trying to allow him as much silence as he needed. All the sounds seemed to confuse Jon, before he suddenly seemed to focus in on something. Without ceremony he grabbed both Lian and Damian, lifting them up into the air. Damian tutted angrily, sulking on Jon’s back with his cape fluttering behind him. However Lian let out a soft shriek before biting down on her lip. After a bit she seemed to calm.

“Where are we going?!” Lian was grabbing Jon’s neck tightly. Unlike Damian, Jon was holding Lian in a bridal style position.

“Not sure exactly. There’s a street and an idling car nearby.”

“You don’t know where you’re taking us!”

Damian just tutted as Lian tried to calm herself down. It was clear Quarrel did not enjoy flying much. He wondered how she’d fair if it wasn’t Jon carrying her. Admittedly Superman was a much better flier and Damian, barely, trusted him to carry him somewhere. Jon was a bit scary when it came to flying.

It was starting to get dark when they got where they wanted to go. Mostly because they flew past it a few times, having not seen Talbot or his sister. Eventually they noticed the manhole covering shift, hovering above it. Damian loosened his grip on Jon’s shoulders (and cape) once they stopped. Lian was even brave enough to shift positions, grabbing her bow and an arrow. They could already guess they would already need it.

“Jon, drop me.” Lian ordered. Jon blinked in surprise. “Drop me!” Jon did.

It was a bit surprising to watch how Lian stayed calm as she fell towards the ground. Maybe it was Jon’s flying that scared her and not the height. If so that made sense. Damian shifted and readied a few batarangs. Lian managed to land quietly in a tree, crouching down with an arrow notched.

The manhole shifted, then moved aside. Two werewolves crept out, Talbot and his sister. As they stood up a car drove towards them. There was no way Talbot would survive the impact. Without thinking Damian leapt off Jon’s shoulders. If he timed this right he’d be able to dive straight through the skyroof. He had. The skyroof shattered around him, cutting into his skin. Blood began to bubble up.

The man in the car was startled and Damian yanked on the wheel hard. It forced the car to turn harshly. This also caused the car to tilt, falling hard on the drivers side. Damian tumbled down onto the drivers lap, hitting his head hard against the side. More glass shattered, some getting embedded into his skin. A soft cry escaped his lips, even as he heard screams and a fight starting. Something was crushing against his leg, warmth of blood (his own?) seeping underneath his head and body. No, it was too much blood for it to be his own. It was… it had to be… the man. There was no way he could survive that much blood loss. Damian bit back a little sob. He was trapped in a car, with a dead body (someone he had inadvertently killed in order to save the werewolves), and multiple injuries. There was no way he could get out of the car by himself.

“Redbird!” Lian, no Quarrel, shouted from above him.

“I’m alive!” Damian shouted back, trying to ignore the body behind him. Why was he so scared? He’d killed people before.

“Hood! Hood! He’s in here! I need help!” Suddenly he could see Quarrel, or at least her outline. The lights from the street illuminated her.

“Superboy! Grab the car, we need to get it upright!” The familiar voice of Hood was right next to him, possibly right next to the car.

“No!” Damian found himself shouting, struggling with his trapped body. “Take off the roof! I’m trapped and if you move the car you might injure me!”

“What about the person in the car with you?” That was the incompetent female wolf.

Damian didn’t bother responding. There was a little gasp, horrified. In his mind's eye he could imagine the repulsion on her face and how she would hide her face. However Damian couldn’t find it in himself to muster any sympathy for her.

Suddenly it was brighter where Damian was. There was no roof above him now, as Jon had torn it off. He heard a little shriek. Todd inhaled sharply but said nothing, emotions hidden by the mask on his face. Instead of moving Damian just blinked, trying to adjust to the new brightness. Immediately Jon and Lian were by his side, taking stock of what was keeping him trapped. With careful directions from Lian, and a few inputs from Todd, eventually Damian was freed from the car.

“You… You al’ahmaq,” Todd hissed.

“What else was I supposed to do?” Damian asked simply, trying not to look at the damage that was caused. “They would die otherwise.”

“Figure out a plan that doesn’t nearly kill you.” Todd reached a hand up and wiped some blood off of Damian’s face, before dusting the glass out of his hair.

“Can we go now?” Jon asked softly.

Both Quarrel and Superboy seemed shaken up. Briefly Damian entertained the idea that it wasn’t because of him and the dead body in the overturned car. However he knew that wasn’t the case. Instead he nodded, Todd herding them to his car. None of them knew about the two hunters in the woods, watching them with narrowed eyes. The werewolves headed to Deaton’s, they headed home.

Damian was fussed over by Grayson, Reyes and Allen trying to talk to him. However he continued to ignore the older heroes. Where were they when he had to dive through a sky roof. Not there that's for sure. With a soft sigh Damian allowed Grayson to finish cleaning and bandaging his wounds. The worst was the gash in his calf, from being trapped. However it would not keep Damian from his heroing duties.

“That was reckless,” Grayson admonished.

“It was necessary,” Damian argued.

“Stiles, Cassie, Jaime, and Bart would never have-”

“Well my team only has one superpowered individual. We did what we had to to get the mission done!”

“Two of them aren’t even here,” Lian reminded Grayson softly, “If Jaime and Bart had wanted us as the replacements… they should help us rather then brush us off.”

“We aren’t brushing you guys off…” Reyes went to argue.

“You are!” Jon exclaimed, waving his hands as he began to float.  
“You aren’t listening to us. We had to go off on our own! We knew we could find them and when we said that you… you guys told us to wait.” Lian suddenly sagged down in her seat, scuffing her boot on the ground.

“If we had waited they would be dead.” Damian was going straight to the point, standing despite his leg. This would make him seem more imposing and in charge. “Both of them. Talbot is an ally, so is his sister. He is formidable and now we have the thanks of his pack. They will help us when we need them too. And we will. The car to kill them was no accident. It was a trap. Dunbar knows what happened in the sewers, we know what happened above. That car was waiting for their appearance on Muse Street, in order to kill them. If we hadn’t been above ground, expecting their arrival there, they would be dead.”

“How did you know they were there, hermano?” Reyes demanded.

“Superhearing,Jonisoneofthemorepowerfulkryptoniansandcanhearbetterthanwerewolvescan.” Allen finished with a deep breath.

“Yeah, that.” Jon muttered.

“It was reckless! You could’ve died!” Grayson shouted.

“We almost die everyday! Todd has already died! Its part of the job!” Damian finally snapped.

It went silent. Damian disappeared upstairs.

**_*******BATWOLF*******_ **

“Why do Reyes and Allen get to be part of a fight?” Damian asked, fiddling with his collapsed katana.

They were currently at school, walking down the hallways. Every exit was covered by someone from the lacrosse team. It was a little surprising just how many there were. All of the exits were covered after all, even the emergency exits. There were more ways out, but going out those ways would just make it suspicious. Dunbar would have to get out from the front doors rather than some random way. Especially if they had to keep him touching Bryant to stay invisible.

“New kids huh?” It was one of the lacrosse kids. Damian didn’t care enough about the sport to learn their names.

“What’s it to you?” Jon demanded.

“You’re looking at all the exits and aren’t leaving, why?” the second lacrosse member asked.

“Maybe cause you and your team is blocking all of them,” Lian suggested.

“Stay out of this girlie,” the first lacrosse kid snarled.

“Isn’t there some sort of fire code regulation about blocking the exits?” Lian examined her nails, which were painted red, as she said this. “I could, hypothetically of course, go to Mrs. Martin and let her know. I wonder what the penalty is.”

“Does it look like we care?”

“You should,” Hewitt added, moving forward before cowering at the snarl. “You’ll get booted from the team for sure. Maybe even suspended!”

“Over blocking the exits?”

“If an emergency happens-” Damian decided to fuck it all, interrupting Lian as he grabbed the first lacrosse member by the front of his shirt.

The other laughed, but Damian wasn’t. Neither was the kid getting gripped. A sadistic smile began to form on Damian’s face. Then he dropped the first lacrosse member. No threats, or violence, were needed. Everything had been communicated through eye-contact. This would’ve worked, if some lacrosse player on the steps hadn’t dumped some sort of floor on the hidden Bryant and Dunbar. Immediately Bryant dropped the invisibility on them.

“Get him!” The second lacrosse member shouted.  
Damian swiftly avoided any trampling, grabbing Lian and pulling her back. The Lacrosse team pushed Dunbar into a classroom. Immediately Jon rushes into the room after them, Damian and Lian following. They were horrified to see no one doing anything, Lian grabbing onto Holloway, who was leading the attack. However she was thrown off. Only Mrs. Finch rushing in kept them from revealing their identities. She didn’t do anything.

“Why aren’t you stopping this?!” Jon demanded.

“Sometimes it’s best to let them work things out on their own,” Mrs. Finch said. Damian clenched his fists.

Before Jon could say anymore, Dunbar’s eyes glinted for two seconds before he gained control again, Grayson and Coach Finstock rushed in. Grayson grabbed Holloway and Matarazzo by the back of their shirts and pulled them out. Coach Finstock went to Dunbar’s side. Leaving Lian and Jon behind, Damian rushed after Grayson. He kept quiet until Nolan Holloway and Gabe Matarazzo were sent inside Mrs. Martin’s office.

“What’s going to happen to them?” Damian demanded.

“That’s up for Natalie to decide,” Grayson replied, guiding Damian away.

“But-”

“Damian, sometimes we can’t do anything.”

“I could’ve-”

“You would’ve exposed yourself.”

Damian hissed through his teeth angrily. That was wrong, that was flawed. There was plenty he could’ve done to stop it. He could’ve acted faster. He could’ve gotten Dunbar outside without any issues. But he failed. This was a test. If Stilinski was here he could’ve done something, anything. Nevermind that he would’ve been with the other heroes in the sewers, with Scott. Where Todd was currently, in his steed.

“Why are we being sidelined?” Damian demanded.

Grayson let out a heavy sigh, “We’ve had this conversation.”

“No. You had that conversation Grayson. By yourself. I was not part of it. Neither was Lian or Jon!”

Grayson turned, gripping Damian’s shoulders tightly. Then he sighed and lowered his head. Confusion filled Damian as he watched this reaction. There had to be a reason, right? Grayson would never do something without a reason. Be it a good reason or not. Then Grayson lifted his head up again, a decision made. A decision that Damian didn’t hear.

“We’ll talk later. Go home Damian.”

Grayson strode away before Damian could argue again. Angrily Damian rushed outside, meeting Lian and Jon by the car. Fingers clenched tightly, nails digging into his skin. Blood bubbling as his nails broke the skin of his palm. However he didn’t seem to notice. Jon gently took his hand and massaged his fist open silently. Lian had enough tact not to say anything.

“They’re scared,” she murmured instead, playing with the end of her braid.

“They should be.” Damian muttered.

“Not of us. Of them.”

“That was the point of them attacking Liam.” Jon grabbed some gauze and covered the crescent moon marks. “They wanted to show them the enemy.”

“Well it didn’t work. We kept that from happening,” Lian argued. “That should be a good thing, right?”

“They will only try again,” Damian hissed through his teeth. “We can’t stop them.”

There was a barrage of arguments, Damian turning away. With Grayson’s lack of faith in his group, he was sure they would just continue to be sidelined. His fingers gripped the countertop tightly. No one was home, except them. Everyone else was out. Which meant… a plan began to form in his head. Then he smirked.

“Which means we’ve got to do it ourselves.”

**_********BATWOLF********_ **

Books scattered across Damian’s bedroom floor. It was the first time it had been this messy, if it could even be called that. To an outsider it would look like a mess, but there was a system. Reliable sources and unreliable were separated, before they were split in sections based off of sources, subjects, and author names. It was a system that worked for the three teens.

“We’re getting nowhere,” Jon complained, tossing aside a random book into the discard pile.

“On the contrary, I’ve gotten quite far. Its two monsters,” Damian replied evenly.

“How do you know that?” Lian looked up from her notes, which she had been doodling on.

“It’s a two faced creature, which explains the dead version of it in the morgue but yet the fear is still festering.”

“And…?”

“The two faces are separate. They have to combine.” Damian tapped his pen on the edge of the notebook, lip between his teeth.

Titus yawned from his spot on Damian’s bed. It was the only spot in the room without books on it. The Great Dane then stood and stretched, leaping over a pile of books, before managing to maneuver himself to Damian’s side. With a disgruntled sigh Damian shifted, Titus resting beside him before falling asleep. As though nothing had happened the group went back to the research.

“I’ve got it!” Lian suddenly exclaimed, knocking over a pile of books in her excitement.

Jon jerked awake, “What?!”

“It’s an Anuk-Ite!”

“A what?!”

“Of course!” Damian exclaimed, reaching over Titus and tugging out a book.

This caused the pile to topple over and fall, waking Titus, but Damian could care less. He rifled through the pages. The other two crawled around the books before sitting besides him. Then Damian found the page he was looking for, a bit difficult to read due to the old nature of the book. He set it on the floor and pointed at a passage, before summarizing it.

“An Anuk-Ite, or Double Face, is a shapeshifter. It feeds off of fear and disharmony, often enhancing the feeling. Then it sets seeds of discord and hatred, turning neighbor against neighbor. It grows more and more powerful with the more fear it is. This creature doesn’t need weapons, it uses the ones already there. The deep rooted fear inside all of us.” Damian tore the page out of the book. “We need to get this to Grayson and Todd!”

It became apparent, as they came closer to the station, that it was under siege. Damian itched towards his katana, only stopped by Lian’s hand gripping his wrist. They knelt behind the bushes, staring at the Hunters in front of them. Even with the other heroes (where were Allen and Reyes?!) it would be difficult to take them all out. Especially if they were to avoid civilian casualties.

“What’re we going to do?” Jon hissed.

Two gunshots rang out. Despite his best efforts Damian flinched. That had come from inside the Sheriff’s Station. No other sounds came from inside the Station.

“They’re still alive,” Jon whispered softly.

“How do you know?!” Damian had his fingers tightly wrapped around the hilt of his katana. Even Jon wouldn’t be able to pull him back from fighting them off.

“I can hear their heartbeats. They’re elevated, but from fear and not…”

“Thank god,” Lian whispered.

However Damian was still on edge. Then the front doors flew open. The first one Damian could see was Todd, which caused him to relax minutely. After him came Grayson, then Reyes and Allen, and lastly McCall with Parrish. Reyes and Allen were carrying a body bag, as were McCall and Parrish. Damian’s fingers loosened on his katana.

“What’re they saying?” Lian demanded to Jon.

“Something about it being the Beta’s? Monroe isn’t listening though. She wants to see the tattoos?”

“Be ready to fight.” Damian was thankful he had his domino mask with him and always wore his costume underneath his clothes.

“Dóola bichąąʼ,” Lian cussed.

“Guys, we might want to get in there,” Jon zipped up his sweatshirt. This allowed the El symbol to show.

“Jikʼeedgo, fine!” Lian huffed and stripped down to her costume and put on her mask. Then she drew out her bow. “Let’s go.”

Before they could enter the soon to be fray, someone drove up. Out of the car stepped Agent McCall, the Alpha’s dad. Once again Damian let out an angry hiss. He needed a fight. He was pissed. If nothing less just let him punch someone. A spar would only help so much. His fingers twitched and he knelt down again.

“What’s he saying?” Damian demanded of Jon.  
“Something about no more deaths?” Jon shrugged a little. Then he tensed. “The pack has to leave Beacon Hills.”

“We’re not leaving, right?” Lian asked.

“He has no authority to kick the League out. The pack, the non-human members specifically, he does have authority over.” Damian growled.

“What about Bart and Jaime? They’ve technically expired their contract for staying here. They were supposed to return to Mount Justice already.” Lian fiddled with her bow string.

“Todd and Grayson might have them leave, but otherwise Agent McCall can’t actually kick us out. We’re here with the Congressional approval.”

“But still…”

“Don’t worry about it.”

Jon had kept quiet. However Damian didn’t mind. Lian was new to the game and, before, she had always had Harper and Koriand’r as her safety nets. Even Todd. But now she only had Todd and, even then, he wasn’t a safety net anymore. Lian was by herself, with only Jon and Damian by her side. Yet it didn’t mean that Damian wasn’t irritated by her insecurities.

“Vet Clinic, now.” Jon ordered, grabbing the two and pulling them away.

It wasn’t until the next day that anything noteworthy happened. Back in civilian clothes, Damian felt unnecessarily vulnerable. Not even his trustworthy katana was on him, however he wasn’t weaponless. There were plenty of concealed weapons on his person. A quick tradeoff in information revealed that Deaton, Hewitt, and Bryant had also learned about the Akun-Ite. However they had learned it from a stone whereas his team had done it by the book route.

“Now that everyone’s here,” McCall started, “We can get going.”

“Am I the only one that didn’t know about this?!” Hewitt exclaimed.

“Yeah.” Allen got nudged by Reyes in reprimand.

“Why?”

“It had to seem believable, hermano. Otherwise it wouldn’t have worked,” Reyes explained.

“But they-” Hewitt gestured at Damian and his group. “-were in on it!”

Todd stepped in. “They weren’t as close to this as you were.”

“The plan?” Damian cut in.

“Fight back,” Grayson replied.

A little smirk appeared on Damian’s face. Fighting? Now that was something he was good at.

 **_*********BATWOLF*******_ ** **_  
_ ** It was frustrating. Once again it felt like he was getting sidelined. Here he was, with Dunbar and Raeken. While his team might be there it was because all of them were getting sidelined. They were too young to deal with it, or that was the argument the others used. It didn’t seem to matter that they had started at the same age with no prior experience. At least his team knew how to defend themselves.

“There’s only two hunters,” Dunbar grumbled.

“The plan needs more then two Liam,” Raeken growled.

“Don’t you think I know that?!”

“Calm down,” Damian snapped. Both Lian and Jon looked at him. “We need to figure out a way to convince them that we’re all here.”

Apparently Raeken believed a false fight would work. However Damian did have to agree that him calling out to their missing members was a smart move. With a sigh Damian joined in the argument.

“Will you all shut up, imbeciles. You’re going to get us all caught.” Damian said, just loud enough to be heard.

“No one’s here!” Raeken exclaimed, punching Dunbar. Damian didn’t understand why but he didn’t care much. “Isn’t that right Scott?! The whole reason we’re trapped here is because you can’t bear to leave Beacon Hills but we can’t stay there! So out of sight out of mind!”

Lian glanced back at them, “It’s working.” She hissed.

Cars began to flood the outside. Jon grasped Lian by her upper arm and began to pull her away from the fence. With the Zoo being so confusing, it was likely that the Hunters would get lost. However it was possible that they could get lost as well, unlikely with Allen having made them a map of the place. It was still possible.

“Liam we need to go!” Raeken hissed at the frozen Dunbar.

He didn’t budge. Raeken rushed off, Damian and the other two following. They made their way deeper in, Dunbar finally following. Holloway had a crossbow in his arms, not hidden very well. It was also clear that he wasn’t paying a lot of attention as they weren’t hidden much either but he still hadn’t caught sight of them.

“We can’t get in a fight, it’d be too dangerous,” Jon whispered.

“Let’s go,” Lian agreed, grasping Damian’s arm and pulling him back.

Raeken was trying to convince Dunbar to move to no avail. Eventually Raeken knelt over and put Dunbar over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Damian would laugh if it wouldn’t give away his position, it didn’t keep Lian from letting out an unattractive snort. They rushed away. This didn’t stop Holloway from finding them.

“I found them!” Holloway shouted.

Dunbar tackled him. They roll of the edge of the Zoo. The others rushed down after, Damian pulling out his katana and jumping off with a shout. Dunbar seemed out of it for a bit, before exposing his fangs and glowing yellow eyes.

“She’s wants me to kill you. She’s going to kill me if I don’t!” Holloway exclaimed, his hands shaking.

“You don’t have to join them Nolan!” Lian exclaimed. Her bow was aimed at him, ready to shoot the second he shot someone else.

“I do!” Dunbar attacked Holloway.

The weapon was ripped from Holloway’s hands. They were ready to join in but it was as though the wolf had taken control of Dunbar. If anything they’d have to save Holloway from the beta. Explaining that to McCall, Allen, Reyes, and the others would be fun. Damian scowled and sent a look to Raeken. However he was one step ahead. Raeken punched Dunbar, knocking him out.

“Either join us.” Lian kept her bow steady on Holloway, eyes narrowed dangerously. It was times like these that Damian could easily see her resemblance to Cheshire. “Or run.”

The boy hesitated, before rushing out without another thought. Lian loosened her bow and removed the arrow, putting it back in the quiver. Everyone relaxed, letting out soft breaths of relief. Then Damian kicked Dunbar’s prone body.

“You knocked him out pretty well Raeken, for an amateur.” Damian told him snarkily.

“I don’t need your sass.” Raeken snapped.

Jon easily lifted Dunbar up, making Raeken go quiet. They made their way to Raeken’s truck, dropping Dunbar into the front seat and buckling him in. Then the three of them got in the back. The plan now, Damian wasn’t sure. He could only hope that they had done what they meant too. It was frustrating, not knowing what the full plan was. He’d have to figure out a way to get Todd and Grayson to spill the beans to him. Even Father let him in on his plans.

“Sleeping Beauty awakens,” Raeken snarked.

“Shut up Theo.”

“I had to knock you out five times.”

“I almost killed Nolan…”

“At least you broke your hands and not him,” Jon added into the conversation.

“You didn’t kill him. Would you like a medal?” Jon and Lian both punched Damian. “Next time we come up with a plan, we are picking a place that won’t send you into send you into a murderous rage.”

“I didn’t know that would happen…” Dunbar sounded dejected. Damian made a face.

“The Anuk-Ite is affecting you. You need to figure out before you completely lose it.” Raeken’s grip tightened around the steering wheel.

“It causes fear, not anger.”

“You can only feel one thing at a time. When you’re afraid you get angry.”

There were a few moments of silence. The heroes in the back all looked at each other. If it was doing that to Liam, what would it do to them? What would it do to others? This wasn’t good.

**_***********BATWOLF***********_ **

In the animal clinic, Jon floated upside down besides him and Lian was resting on the operating table. Both Reyes and Allen were against a wall, near where McCall was. Todd and Grayson were out of town, due to an emergency back home in Gotham. It frustrated Damian as he was unable to leave and help as well. However the thing that upset him the most was that they told him to listen to Reyes and Allen. That _they_ were in charge. They weren’t even supposed to be here anymore! They were supposed to be in college, like Stilinski had done! So were McCall and Martin!

“What’s so important about the voicemail anyways?” Lian asked.

“The voice belongs to whoever Aaron’s other half is,” Dunbar reminded them.

“It’s a voicemail on the phone that was on the body of the dead person.” Damian looked up from where he was cleaning his katana. “Most likely the voice in the voicemail knows them. The voice doesn’t belong to the dead body.”

“How are you so sure of that?” McCall asked.

“It’s their phone, hermano. Why would they leave themselves a voicemail. Su ridículo.” Reyes defended them. Not that they needed it.

“So the voice on the phone knew the other half of the Anuke-Ite.”

“Si.”

There was a bit of arguing. Damian tuned it off. He knew he recognized the voice on the other side of the phone. Just where did he know it from? It couldn’t be someone from Gotham… or could it. Damian leapt over the table and grabbed the phone, ignoring the sudden silence. He played it again and paced back on forth.

“Harley…?” He murmured under his breath before shaking his head. “One of the other Sirens maybe?”  
“Damian, what’re you talking about?” Lian demanded.

Damian flipped the phone over in his hand, looking at it from all angles. He knew he recognized it. The image was in his head but the face that went with it. He couldn’t place it. But maybe… He pressed his finger against the screen, holding it there until it unlocked. So he did know who owned the phone, he had a tendency to input his fingerprint into everyone’s phones. It allowed him access without them realizing it.

“Damian?” Allen asked in confusion.

“I know who owns this phone.” He mumbled softly, swiping through. Most things were gone, corrupted even. None of the numbers had contacts to go with it, some area codes he didn’t even recognize. His own number was in it, without a picture or a name to go with it. He clicked on the number and pulled up the text messages. Some were missing, others corrupted and in some sort of code, only a few could actually be read. It didn’t give him much more information besides knowing that he had a personal relationship with this person.

“Damian, what is it?” Jon came over to him.

“Most of the information is gone or corrupted. Those that aren’t don’t give me much information. I also can’t seem to call anyone back.” Damian clicked into the photo gallery.

The phone glitched openly a few times, before showing images. Most were blurry or had black spots over a face. It was difficult to see anything in the images. Damian came across a few of him, corrupted as well, where he didn’t seem to know that they were taking pictures of him. He was even Robin in a good few. That narrowed it down significantly, at least. They had to be a hero. But who else had been in Beacon Hills?

“It was a hero,” Damian deduced, tapping his thumb nail against the screen. “They knew me personally. Both in and out of costume. I must tell Father.”

There was an instinct telling him not too. But this was getting bigger than just him. It was stretching out into the hero community now. They had to get some outside help. Otherwise it would be suicidal. Damian wasn’t looking for approval. He was telling them.

“This is my case now. Jon, Lian come with me.” He pushed past those at the door, holding onto the phone tightly. Calling the number of the voicemail was his first priority. At home he dials the number into his phone, waiting for it to connect. The others sit next to him anxiously, but then the ringing stopped.

_~The number you are trying to reach does not exist. Please check the number and try again~_

Damian frowned a little, before doing as it said. He got the same message again. With a growl he threw his phone onto his bed before playing the voicemail again. There were no hints as to who the person was, besides them begging the owner of the phone to come home. Damian wracked through his mind different heroes, going through the photo gallery again. It had to be someone he knew. Out of all the heroes he showed up the most. Though there were also multiple pictures of Power Girl, aka Karen Starr as well. He tapped his chin, debating about calling Power Girl as well. Maybe she would know. But he didn’t know which number was hers in the long list and didn’t have her number in his phone.

“Do any of you know how to get in contact with Power Girl?” Damian eventually asked, rolling over to look at them.  
“Karen? No, maybe Dad could but…” Lian shrugged and looked over at Jon.

“Why?” Jon asked softly.

“Because she knows Power Girl…” Damian trailed off as his mind went to overdrive.

A thought occuring Damian quickly called Selina Kyle. The second she answered the phone he knew he had gotten it right, hanging up on her before scrolling through the pictures again. This time he looked as close as he could to the images, zooming in occasionally. Eventually he had gotten enough details to paint a whole picture.

“Helena…” He whispered softly, standing up. “What’s she doing in Beacon Hills?”

“Helena… Bertinelli? Huntress?”

“Her real name is Helena Wayne. But yes Huntress.”

“What?!”  
“She’s from Earth Two. On Earth Two Father and Selina Kyle reproduced, Helena was born. That’s all I know. We tend not to talk about our heritage very much. Father is dead on her Earth.” Damian rubbed out the crease between his brows. “If what they’re saying is right, my sister is dead and that… thing took her body. I’m going to kill it.”

“Then we need to find her. Aaron is probably at the school so we should head there, right? Since they’re trying to merge bodies?” Lian suggested.

“Yeah, probably. But none of us can drive and walking would be to slow.” Jon chewed on his thumb anxiously.  
“I can drive,” Damian reminded them.

“You can’t even reach the pedals.”

“I’m taller than you are!”

“Boys, you’re both pretty.” Lian grabbed the keys off the hook. “But I’m taller than both of you and I can drive. Let’s go.”

It was a quiet drive. Jon and Damian glaring at each other, for the short comments from earlier, and Lian whistling as she drove like a Nascar driver all the way to the school. The true miracle wasn’t that they didn’t die, it was that they hadn’t gotten pulled over. With the Hunters taking over the Station, something Todd had complained about very loudly once he had gotten home and it took Grayson to keep him from going back and beating them all up (as Red Hood of course). Damian would’ve been right behind him, any excuse to beat someone up, but Grayson made it clear no one was beating up anybody.

A scream pierced the air and Damian glanced over at the other two. They nodded and Damian was secretly glad he had agreed to wear his costume. He put on his domino mask and rushed into the building, following the screams. Aaron was doubled over, holding his stomach as though he would be sick. But there was no clear indication why he was screaming, until Helena walked in. His sister had a crossbolt in her stomach, which she was moving around to keep the screams going. Whatever hurt one hurt the other. Except Helena didn’t seem to be in any pain.

“Sister?” Damian couldn’t help but ask.

She looked at him. There was no recognition in her eyes. It was solely the Anuk-Ite. Damian swallowed thickly and charged her with his katana. Except the Anuk-Ite was more powerful, easily pushing him back. In fact it pushed back both Jon and Lian too, without any issues. Damian felt his arm crushed beneath him, a soft cry escaping his lips when Jon landed on top of him. It was either dislocated or broken. He wouldn’t be able to tell until he could actually look at it.

Helena and Aaron began to fight. As much as he hated it, he knew Helena would win this fight. And win she did, barely a minute later. Spiders exploded from Aaron, climbing into Helena. Then something began to happen. Black smoke surrounded Helena, changing her. Someone grabbed his injured arm and Damian let out a soft hiss. However they continued to drag him, hitting a button on his domino mask. Everything went black.  
“What?” Damian demanded.

“Ssh, you can’t look at it.” That was Allen above him.

“Why not?”

“It’ll kill you hermano. Your arm is roto, broken.” Reyes was there as well. “Yes, I know. ¡Basta!” What was Khaji Da saying?

“I can still fight it!” Damian insisted, shifting his katana.  
“You lost against one half with your sight. I don’t want to imagine it whole without your sight. Come on. We need a plan.”

**_************BATWOLF*********_ **

Damian felt useless with a cast on. The plan consisted of getting all their allies, but that meant that only Grayson and Todd could leave with Argent to track them down. This also meant that the kids, and subsequent younger people than Grayson and Todd, were left behind. Damian kicked a pebble angrily.

“Training with Deucalion, but only for Scott, doesn’t make sense. Shouldn’t everyone train to fight blind?” Lian demanded, in a sour mood. It was probably Damian’s fault.

“Well, I know how to and anyone who has trained with Father does too,” Damian sighed. Then he picked at the cast. Already he had signatures on it from pack members and some random people that considered him a _friend_. “Honestly haven’t your parents trained you to fight blind?”

“No,” Jon muttered. Even he was in a poor mood. Jon was also sticking closer to Damian then normal, which irritated the young assassin. “Dad doesn’t think it's necessary. After all nothing can really blind us. Not even bright lights. Your dad has everything that could possibly cause us to be blind.”  
“You’re weak to magic, Kent. Surely if a spell hit your eyes you would get blinded.” Damian snapped.

“Stop it! And stop calling me Kent! You’ve been using Jon recently and I prefer that!” Jon’s eyes bubbled with frustrated tears. “Gosh Damian you can really be a jerk sometimes!” Jon stormed off.

Instead of chasing after Jon, Damian turned his face away and clenched his fists tightly. Bitter tears formed in his eyes but Damian stubbornly refused to let them fall. They were all frustrated and angry. A blow up was only natural. Jon would be back. He always came back. Damian pushed back the doubt.

“Aren’t you going to go after him?” Lian demanded.

“Why would I, Harper?” Damian snapped, before mentally berating himself.

“Don’t take your anger out on us!” Lian whirled on him, fists clenched like she was going to punch him. She blew her hair out of her face. Recently she had cut it short and Damian was still trying to get used to it. “You’re frustrated, I get it. We all are. But taking it out on Jon is a new low, even for you. Now get your shit together and go after him!”

Damian brushed past her, “He’ll be back.”

“He won’t always come running back Damian! In fact I’m not sure if he should.” Lian shouted at his retreating back, before storming in the opposite direction. Away from Jon, away from Damian.

Damian let a tear fall from his eyes, wiping it away with his sleeve stubbornly. Dammit, he was Robin. He shouldn’t be crying over this. It wasn’t like they meant anything to him. They were just people he hung out with. Allies, nothing more. Nothing less. That’s how it would always be.

“Holloway, Dunbar.” Damian greeted once inside the library.

“Where’s your posse Damian?” Dunbar snapped. It seemed no one liked Damian. He didn’t need them too.

“Around. What about you Dunbar? Hanging around the enemy now?”

“He’s not with them anymore.”

“A traitor, even worse.”  
“Are you trying to make everyone hate you Damian. Cause its working.”

Dunbar hit a nerve. Damian refused to let it show. Instead he raised an eyebrow, seemingly unimpressed.

“That the best you can do Dunbar. I was raised with assassins. Your petty little insults won’t touch me.” Damian replied evenly.

“I see now. They left you. Decided you weren’t worth the energy. A long time coming.” Dunbar brushed past Damian. “Well, if you don’t mind. I’ve got something important to do.” The ‘unlike you’ was left unsaid.

Damian clenched his fists again. It wasn’t worth it. Dunbar was just trying, and succeeding, to get under his skin. A shaky exhale left his lips and he turned around. The whole reason he had come here was to get information from Dunbar and Holloway. Now, however, it seemed he wouldn’t get that information. Perhaps if he… no. Following them would be useless. One, Dunbar would know he was there. Two, it would only prove Dunbar’s point.

Bryant and Hewitt would have to do as company until then. Without a word Damian sat across from them with a heavy scowl.Their conversation immediately halted but Damian ignored it.

“We’re going to the hospital. You’re welcome to join,” Hewitt offered after he received a text.

“I’m good. Enjoy your stay,” Damian replied snarkily, waving them off as he did research.

Once they left Damian was alone. It didn’t bother him. It didn’t.

**_***********BATWOLF**********_ **

How they had kept this from him for so long, Stiles didn’t know. It made him angry that it had, that he hadn’t even gotten the signs that it could be happening. That pissed him off. It also pissed him off that they hadn’t thought to contact him. Did they think he wouldn’t come back for them? Of course he would! They were his friends! Damian was his little brother! Jason and Dick were his older siblings! If they thought they were protecting him he was going to beat them all up. In the past years he had protected them. Not the other way around.

“I can hear you angsting,” Derek told him calmly from the passenger's seat.

“I’m not angsting I’m pissed.” Stiles clenched his fists around the steering wheel.

“As you should be.”

“I’m going to murder them.”

“That would be counterproductive.”

“I know! But it would make me feel better!” Stiles pressed a little more on the gas pedal, speeding up the car.

Shadow Fox was back. They rammed into a hunter, Derek leaping over the hood of the car and attacking another. Stiles stormed out of the car, energy leaping around him. Even the pack cowered as he shot a beam at a hunter aiming at him before wrapping his chain whip around another. With a yank he knocked the hunter into one of the other hunters. Somehow this got the pack to react, attacking the hunters.

“Why. Didn’t. You. Tell. Me.” Stiles ground out, once they had gotten rid of all the hunters that hadn’t fled. "I told you to tell me if you couldn't handle it!!"

“We thought we could handle it!” Scott exclaimed.

“And you two!” Stiles turned on Jaime and Bart. “I thought you at least would let me know what the fuck was going on! Especially when it got this bad!! No! I had to hear it from a third party! FROM FUCKING HUNTERS BRAGGING ABOUT KILLING OFF BEACON HILLS!”

“Sorry!” Bart squeaked, “Butyouweren’thereuntilnowinmyfutureand-”

“That’s no excuse! Your future doesn’t exist anymore Bart…” Stiles sighed and ran his hands through his hair, messing it up. “Bring me up to speed.”

It took only a few minutes to bring him and Derek up to speed. Needless to say it was a mess. A huge one. This didn’t even cover Stiles’ concern about where his brothers were, where Damian’s friends were, and where the younger section of the pack happened to be. It wasn’t covered in getting brought up to speed. If Stiles were to nitpick, and nitpick he did, he’d imagine that Scott himself didn’t know where the rest of his pack was.

“What brought you back?” Peter asked Derek.

“There was a pack in Brazil. Beacon Hills was written in blood,” Derek explained. “Stiles had me run as the FBI was after me. Brazil was my first stop really…”

“Did you come back for Beacon Hills?” Scott asked.

“No, I came back for my family.”

Before anyone could reply, or ruin the sappy moment, the car radio fizzled. Gerard’s voice crossed through, staticy. Everyone gathered around the car, Stiles getting in and listening closely.

_~Blood and destruction, dreadful objects so familiar. All pity choked with custom of fell deeds. Caesar’s spirit, ranging for revenge, with Ate by his side come hot from hell, shall in these confines with a monarch’s voice …~_

Silently they all looked at each other. None knew how to respond, until Derek picked up the handset. He let out a soft exhale before holding it to his lips. Then he pressed down and began to speak.

“Cry ‘Havoc’ and let slip the dogs of war.”

_~Derek, welcome back to Beacon Hills. Enjoy your family reunion boys. I’m glad to be the reason of it. ~_

Scott stole the receiver, “Why don’t you come over and we can thank you in person?”

 _~I have some visitors from London. Say hi boys.~_ Screams came through the receiver and the sound of a taser. Bart turned pale and covered his mouth. Jaime reached over and patted his shoulder gently.

 _~I’m going to shove that taser up your ass~_ Jackson’s voice came over the radio, weak and shaky. Stiles felt energy build up around his fists.

_~We’ve lured all your allies into a trap. Jordan Parrish is trapped in Eichen House, trapped by a dispatcher. Agent McCall is locked up, having been captured on his way to San Francisco. Your younger members are trapped in the hospital. As for those heroes you have, the young ones, they’re all separated after a bit of a push. All because of Redbird. How does it feel Scott? To have your resources spread so thin. Your army against theirs is how you wage war. You can’t save them all. Eventually you will come to me Scott. You will fail. The dogs of war are coming for you Scott.~_

The radio fizzled silent. Everyone was pale, Bart was shaking. Angrily Scott punched the car, Stiles glared at him but said nothing. Then he let out a soft exhale and ran his hand through his hair again.

“Meet at the vet clinic. I’ll have a plan by then. Scott any new allies you’d like to tell me about?” Stiles demanded.

“Theo,” Scott admitted. “I’ll text him. He can get those in the hospital.”  
“Do that. I’ll text Damian and have him make friendly again and go help.”

“Damian has a broken arm,” Bart spoke up slowly.

“Fuck, fine. Bart, Jaime you two go help Theo. I’ll figure out the rest of us later. I’m calling for backup.”

Bart and Jaime left. Stiles tugged on his hair before heading to the Vet Clinic. He was going to murder someone. He was. Why did everything always go to hell when he wasn’t there. Nothing bad was supposed to happen, dammit. It was supposed to be an easy year. It was!

At the Vet Clinic Stiles learned it was so much worse. An Anuk-Ite. Something that feeds of your fears. With a low grow Stiles began to think. But it only got worse the more they spoke. Fighting blind. Stiles could do that. But blind and having to deal with his worst fears.

**-knife on skin-**

**-carving-**

**-maniacal laughter-**

**-unnatural smiles and screams-**

**-screams-**

**-SCREAMING-**

Stiles brushed the memories aside. Not before he faced the Anuk-Ite. He’d deal with it then. Now he had to focus. Plan. He could plan. Planning was what he did best. Yes. Plans.

“I’ve contacted the hero community. They aren’t sending much but Batgirl, Black Bat, and Red Robin are coming in to help. We’ve also got Artemis, Arsenal, and Red Arrow. Oh and Conner and Cassie. That’s pretty good considering. Most of them are only coming in because we have their siblings and or kid.” Stiles spread the map out. “They’ll help with the major fight but let’s not count on it. Zeta tubes are down and it's going to be a bit before they can get here. None of them have superspeed or can fly without a jet. There’s also no guarantee they’re going to be able to land and if they can’t one or two are going to have to stay to keep the craft moving.”

“So don’t expect help from them.” Scott sat down with a sigh.

“Exactly. Now, Lydia and Jon, if him and the other two ever show up, are going to break out Jackson and Ethan. If Jon doesn’t show up I’m going to go with her. I’d prefer not too as you guys are going to need me for the big showdown but we can try and make it quick.” Stiles pointed out Gerard’s armoury. “They should find Chris first if possible but if it's not necessary I say barge straight in.”

“It’s not.” Lydia confirmed with a hair flip.

“Good.”

“The biggest question is what Gerard wants us to do and how to stop it. I’ll admit I’m out of the loop and a summary of the events doesn’t paint the whole picture.”

“My plan rests on stopping the Anuk-Ite.” Scott admitted. “It should stop the war as not all of Gerard’s army are hunters. They’re all just ordinary people. It's because of the fear. If we remove that component we stop the war.”

“And if it doesn’t work?”

“It has too.”

It was silent, before slowly people started agreeing. Stiles nodded before looking at the map again.

“I’ll help you buddy. Do you have a plan on how to stop it?”

“No, but we will we always do.”

“Yeah because we have plans to stop it. I recommend a mirror. You know the whole it sees itself and it manages to turn itself to stone?”

Stiles had to admit he missed the rush of the fight. However hunters were nothing more then common thugs and it was over far too quickly for his liking. With a scowl he kicked open the door and prepared for a fight. Instead he found Jackson.

“Stiles?”

“Does no one understand the point of a mask?!” Stiles threw his hands up.

“No offense dude but the Shadow Fox name sucks.”

“You shut up.”

“Jackson!” Lydia squealed and tackled him in a hug.

Stiles waited the mandatory sixty seconds before breaking them up. They had work to do and they needed to help Scott in the first place. Getting Jackson and Ethan out was the first step in helping Scott.

“We can’t leave without Ethan,” Jackson insisted.

“We weren’t planning too but why were you guys together in the first place?” Stiles asked, before stopping.

“Oh my god! I thought you’d never figure it out!” Lydia exclaimed.

“Yeah yeah. Come on let’s go get him.”

_~Fox!~_

“What’s up?” Stiles asked.

_~Are you still in the armoury? Grab some mountain ash from Gerard’s hidden room~_

“You guys realize I always have mountain ash on me right?”

Stiles grabbed it anyways. Maybe this one was special? Probably not but it was better to listen. It sounded like Scott had a better plan than just a mirror. However Stiles really wanted to know if it would work. It seemed to in dumb Disney movies at least.

“How’d you escape before I did?” Ethan asked.

That was literally the first thing Ethan said to any of them. Stiles considered it kinda rude but he wasn’t one to talk. The first thing he did to the Pack was yell at them. It might have been rude but he had been angry. Ethan just seemed put out.

“I talked my way out of it,” Jackson replied.

“You used the tail didn’t you. That’s so gross Jax.”

“You have a tail?” Lydia demanded.

“That’s not the weirdest thing I’ve seen.” Stiles shrugged.

Once at the school, having saved both Ethan and Jackson, Stiles turned on the blackout option on his domino mask. Immediately everything went dark. Exhaling softly Stiles’ opened his ‘eyes’. Different auras flooded his vision. Each outlining everyone’s bodies. He let out gentle breaths and began to walk.

**-flesh burning, melting, sizzling-**

**-oh god it hurts-**

**-”We’re gonna have a little fun”-**

**-STOP-**

Stiles blinked the memories back. His breathing was heavy as though he had run a marathon. Slowly Stiles clenched his fists to keep them from shaking. At least he didn’t seem to be the only one affected.

“Close your eyes,” Lydia’s voice shook.

**-”Where should I put it on you?”-**

**-Knife-**

**-** **_Jokers_ ** **written out on his inner thigh-**

**-Pain-**

Stiles followed the fear, following the energy that flowed around it. But then he froze. Something, he could hear something. He followed it and found his brothers aura, the strong simmering green like the color of the Lazarus Pit. However it was muted, tightly wound around his body.

“Damian?” Stiles asked softly.

 **-”Wonder if you’ll be as much** **_fun_ ** **as the other birdies!”-**

**-fear, suffocating-**

**-disjointed laughter, giggles-**

**-sobs-**

“Jon… he’s… he’s…” Stiles could see the despair swirling around Damian, pulsing with each soft sob.

“Damian… he’s not dead.”

“He’s STONE!” Damian lunged at Stiles but he easily dodged, grabbing Damian around the middle and holding him close. “IT’S MY FAULT! I COULD’VE!! I COULD’VE PROTECTED HIM!”

“Stop it. Damian stop! You can’t protect everyone.”

Damian sagged in his arms, all the fight leaving him. The once angry and raging aura sagged with him. A soft grunt escaped Stiles’ lips as he tried not to drop him. The sudden deadweight didn’t help matter.

“Look, you can either sit here and mope or you can get revenge. Its up to you. Aaron was a shapeshifter, a werewolf. Therefore he can…”

“Be trapped by mountain ash…” Damian finished softly.

“Exactly. At least according to Scott.”

“That thing killed my sister, it hurt Jon, it is torturing everyone. Its. Going. To. Pay.”

Stiles was sorely tempted to say ‘That’s the spirit’ except it wasn’t the spirit. It really wasn’t. And if Damian had a sister did that mean he had another cousin he didn’t know about? Stiles figured he could deal with that later. There was silence and Stiles saw Damian’s aura touch Jon’s silvery blue, like the clouds in the sky. Their aura’s mingled in a way Stiles had only ever seen in his and Derek’s, before Damian’s aura reluctantly pulled away.

“Let’s go kill it.” There was a dangerous edge to Damian’s tone. Stiles ignored it.

“Yeah, let’s go.”

Their trek was short, too the point. Stiles pretended not to notice Derek’s rich purple standing still on his way past, or any of the others. His stomach clenched tightly. They could get this thing. They would. Everyone would be okay. All he had to do was focus and kill it.

They rushed into the library, there was a strange aura. It was feeding off of the fear. It was so much stronger here.

**-The Nogitsune-**

**-Laughter-**

**-Sword, slicing through flesh-**

**-Blood, all over his hands-**

Stiles forced it away and threw the mountain ash. At the same time Damian charged with a shout. He watched as the aura froze, hitting the button. Sight returned and he watched Damian bring down his Katana on the frozen Akun-Ite. It was trapped. But now, as Damian’s blade hit the stone, it was dead. The Akun-Ite shattered, much like the Nogitsune version if him had. Then it scattered to dust.

“Scott!” Stiles exclaimed, rushing past a numb Damian. “What’d you do?”

The doors to the library were thrown open multiple times, people joining them. Stiles ignored them, cursing at his friend. He had ruptured his eyeballs. Blood was streaming down his face. Stiles wanted to throw up. But he forced himself to be strong.

“Scott you have to heal yourself.” It was Derek. God he was alive. Stiles would rejoice if he wasn’t so terrified.

“I’m trying.”

“Focus Scott!” Bart shouted, angry.

“I can’t. I can’t. I can’t.”

“If you don’t heal soon it's going to be permanent,” Derek warned.

“I’m trying!”

“Why isn’t it working?” Stiles whispered softly.

“Maybe if I kickstart the healing?” Derek knelt besides Scott, taking his arm gently and pressing his claws against it.

“We don’t know if that will make it worse or not!” Lian, when had she come in?, exclaimed as she rushed forward.

“It can’t make it worse.”

Derek’s claws pierced Scott’s skin. Blood welled up around his claws but it seemed nothing would change. All that happened was a sharp exhale from Scott and a soft cry from Lydia. The doors were flung open once more.

“What’s going o-... Scott?” Cassie seemed to have arrived. She rushed to their sides before pulling Lydia into her arms.

Lydia turned her face away and buried it in Cassie’s chest with soft sobs. As though burned Derek dropped Scott’s arm, which was bleeding sluggishly. That should have worked. But the blindness was Scott’s own doing. They all watched with bated breath as Scott cried blood, the claw marks on his arm healing slowly. However it did nothing for his eyes. Even as the eyeballs grew back, his sight didn’t. Instead the iris’ and pupils were a murky grey. Tears fell down Stiles’ face.

“Dammit!” Stiles shouted and turned away.

**_***********BATWOLF********_ **

“Selina’s pregnant. Damian is insisting that we’re finally going to have another sister.” Stiles tapped his fingers against the steering wheel.

They were waiting for Scott to come with the new werewolf, Alec. Derek had joined him in the Jeep for this one. Lydia and Cassie, when they became an official couple Stiles was unsure, would be joining them soon in Lydia’s care. Lian and Nolan, Stiles knew she took after her dad, were leaning against the hood across the way. Then there was Damian and Jon, sitting on the ground and staring at the full moon. The rest of the pack were on their way, Jaime and Bart guaranteed to be the last to turn up. Even Theo and Liam were already here. Usually they were one of the last ones to show up.

“Didn’t you say once that the Akun-Ite had killed Damian’s sister. It’s possible that he knows what gender it is because of that. What’s to say she hadn’t been from a different Earth?” Derek suggested calmly.

“I hate when you get logical on me.” Stiles sighed.

“They’re here.”

Stiles and Derek got out of the car, the other couples following suit. Jaime and Bart finally joined them, skidding to a stop besides Theo and Liam. The rest just smiled softly at the nervous young werewolf. It was clear he was not comfortable with this.

“Who are they?” Alec, the young werewolf, asked.

“My family. My friends. My pack.” Scott had sunglasses over his eyes, as though not to scare him. In the past the milky white of Scott’s eyes managed to terrify those that hadn’t known, and don’t know, what happened. It even makes those that know uncomfortable.

“And you can be part of it if you want,” Derek spoke up, eyes gleaming red to remind those that he was also their alpha, “but you’re going to have to fight.”

“Monroe promised to find me, to hunt me down, to kill me because I’m a monster!” Alec exclaimed.

“You’re not a monster,” Stiles spoke up.

“You’re a werewolf. Like me”

“Like us.”

Scott brought down the glasses, milky white turning a blood red. Alec took a step back in surprise. The other werewolves followed too, eyes glowing their respective colors. Stiles allowed his hands to glow with energy, Cassie lifting Lydia up with one arm, Jaime’s armour going over his hand, and Bart vibrating at an unreasonable speed. Even Jon showed off some, floating up off the ground. All of them did this to comfort Alec, showing him he was not alone. As they walked off dramatically into the moonlight, when were they not dramatic, Stiles allowed himself to ponder.

The mission would never be over. That Stiles and Damian knew for a fact. There would always be the pack. There would always be more supernatural creatures that need their help. Always be people that need their help. While the mission was officially over, they would come when called. With the newest edition on their way, it would be important for them to protect them from the world. In the way only they knew how. They had their scars, they had their problems, but they would always have them by their side.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: AND IT IS FINALLY DONE!! I AM SO SO SO SO SORRY ABOUT THE LONG WAIT FOR THIS CHAPTER!!
> 
> Stiles: She really is. She’s been angsting about it.
> 
> Me: But this is finally, finally, over. I don’t know how I feel about the ending but meh.
> 
> Review Here ---> I don’t remember the song anymore. Just google it.

**Author's Note:**

> Me: Wow, long prologue. Umm… I don’t really know what to say.
> 
> Stiles: I think Shadow Fox is a stupid name.
> 
> Me: Yeah well the original name I was gonna give you was taken already. Oh, Character Ages for the actual story.
> 
> Dick Grayson: 27ish
> 
> Jason Todd: 25-26ish
> 
> Tim Drake: 18-19 (he’s like a year or two older than Stiles)
> 
> Stiles Stilinski: 15-16
> 
> Jaime Reyes: 17-18
> 
> Bart Allen: 17-18
> 
> Cassie Sandsmark: 15-16 (same age about as Stiles)
> 
> Me: Everyone else is kinda a free for all and might seem fluid in their ages.
> 
> Review Request Here --- This Prologue was really all over the place.


End file.
